GI Joe SERE: Part 2
by Jaenelle Angelline
Summary: Continuation of GIJoe SERE. Hawk prefers court-martial charges against Hilton and Broadview for their mishandling of the SERE training with Scarlett's help , and Corporal Arlington settles in at Joe base. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 24: Friends

**Chapter 24: Friends**

They actually hadn't been all that far from the airlift site, as Hawk found as he started back to the waiting plane with Spirit and Lady Jaye. Another ten minutes of walking found them staring at the most beautiful sight in the world, a Gulfstream Four. Ordinarily there wouldn't be enough open space in the forest to set down a plane that size, but a huge mudslide from the nearby hillside, caused by torrential rains from the hurricane, had provided a clear enough landing pad, and because this had formerly been a sheet of earthen bedrock, the plane hadn't sunk into the mud so far it wouldn't get out.

They were all tired, hungry, dirty, and ragged; Lady Jaye's eyebrow rose when she saw Hawk without a top, but he gestured tersely to the still figure on the stretcher. Charlie stepped forward, examining Cam quickly, not even seeming fazed when he saw the stark white burn scars on her right leg from knee up. "Infection in that foot," he said, confirming Hawk's suspicion. Then, "Where are the rest of her clothes? Shoes?"

"She didn't have any. I gave her my top but we didn't have anything else." Lady Jaye froze in shock, staring from him to Cam and back in apparent disbelief, but he shook his head. "It's a long story. Suffice it to say my report is going to be very long and detailed and I'll be giving the JAG office a call." Then he focused on her. "And you guys! What are you guys doing here?"

"Got permission from Lieutenant General Johnson to launch a search and rescue once we heard you were missing. It's a long story, we'll talk when we get inside the G4. Let's just say I think Lieutenant General Johnson has some questions about how a decorated American General goes missing from an authorized American military base on American soil in the middle of a hurricane during what is supposed to be a routine training exercise." Lady Jaye watched as Charlie lifted Cam effortlessly in his arms and bore her away quickly, long strides eating up the ground. Freed of their burden of carrying Cam's stretcher, the rest of the trainees fell into line behind Hawk and Jaye.

Lifeline and Stretcher were waiting outside the G4. Lifeline took one look at the unconscious, tattered figure in Spirit's arms and gestured the tall Navajo wordlessly into the aircraft; he was apparently handling the emergency cases. Stretcher wordlessly handed each of the other soldiers a handful of ration packs each and directed them to seats toward the front of the plane; everyone was in relatively good shape, and he sighed as he gestured the last of the trainees into the front of the plane, then gestured Hawk into the back. "Get back here and I'll have a look at you." At Hawk's uncomprehending look Stretcher said, "You have scratches on your back. Four of them look kind of like they might have come from barbed wire, I assume from your escape from the SERE stockade?" It was only then that Hawk realized why his back hurt.

Lady Jaye slipped to the front of the plane, presumably to talk to whatever pilot they'd brought along; Wild Bill, he identified a few minutes later when he heard his Warrant Officer's voice answering Lady Jaye back. Shortly thereafter he felt the plane lift off and Lady Jaye came and sat down in front of him. "All right. While Stretcher has a look at your back, I need to know what happened. I need to know why Base Commander Hilton is so hostile to us being here, and why he practically ordered us not to come find you when we already had Lieutenant General Johnson's permission. That permission is the only reason why we're here, General Hawk, otherwise Base Commander Hilton would have ordered us out of Fort Bragg and forbidden us to come looking for you. As it was, he worded his objections to our search and rescue…very strongly." And he'd pissed her off.

"Hilton knows I'm pissed at the way he's handled this training class. He's allowed one of his instructors, Colonel Broadview—the man let his personal dislike of a trainee to carry over onto his work. That's why Cam has no clothes, that's why she looks like she's been scalped, that's why she's skinny and exhausted and her feet are infected because she had no shoes!" All the anger he'd been holding in burst from him in a torrent of words. "He PT'd her all afternoon, the hottest part of the afternoon, out on the Nasty Nick—" he used the nickname for Camp Mackall's legendary obstacle course, "in one hundred seven degree heat. She went hyperthermic—she was badly burned in a childhood accident and she doesn't have sweat glands over half her body—"

"Sixty five," Lifeline said from where he was examining Cam. "Sixty-five percent of her body, from what I can tell without seeing her back. First and second degree burns, from a fire that involved some kind of accelerant." He looked at Hawk and his eyes were dark with anger. "Hawk, she was never treated."

"What?" He forgot the rest of what he was going to say in shock. "What do you mean 'she was never treated'?"

"What I said. _She was never treated_. Not in a proper hospital, with burn units and skin graft procedures and more importantly, reconstructive surgery and painkillers. What you see is natural healing." He shook his head. "But that's not the most immediate problem. Finish your story before we get to Fort Bragg while I have a look at her feet."

"He PT'd her until she went hyperthermic. He force-marched her all over camp nude with a dog leash around her neck and her wrists and ankles chained together. He paraded her in front of us, humiliated her by not giving her appropriate items when she started her period, and then he cut her hair off with a dull knife, that's why she has those raw patches on her head!" He snapped angrily. "And he kicked her. On her right side, like the third or fourth rib down. I think he was thinking he'd get away with it because her scar tissue doesn't show bruising, but she either has a bruised or fractured rib there after she also fell down a muddy slope and collided with a tree."

"It's not broken." Lifeline said after a moment. "Just bruised. Bad, but just bruised. She'll be okay. She's having her period?" He'd draped a sheet over her body, now he raised it and looked underneath, then cursed. "Jesus Christ, Hawk, this is exactly what I meant about not having been treated! She shouldn't look like that! Even Alex didn't look like that after…after."

"I didn't think so either—after seeing what Snake Eyes looked like after the reconstructive surgery on his face, I couldn't figure out why no one could do something about an eighteen-year-old girl _that_ badly burned."

"Eighteen?"

"She said she was eighteen when it happened."

"I'll run some tests to figure out how old those scars are. In the meantime…Hawk, there's no way she had her period."

"What?"

"She was under too much stress and she lost too much weight too quickly. There's no way. How long did she bleed?"

"A day or so. Maybe. I saw blood on her legs after Broadview took her out to PT her our second morning there and she went hyperthermic. By the time we broke out on the morning of day four I didn't notice any more blood, although we were getting rained on so it could have washed it away before I noticed."

"No. She didn't have her period." Stretcher finished bandaging Hawk's back and went over to Cam. "Take your hand away for a moment, Lifeline." Lifeline did, and Stretcher placed a hand over the sheet covering Cam's lower belly, then pressed.

Cam almost sat bolt upright, screaming in pain. Lady Jaye started back; Stretcher took his hand away. "Christ. I'm sorry, Cam."

She was almost convulsing. "Hurts…Oh please, it hurts," she whimpered, her hands coming up to cradle the pain in her middle even as she rolled onto her side, curling in a fetal position. As she rolled onto her side the sheet lifted, and Lady Jaye clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry of shock. There was now a smear of blood on her stretcher where her hips had rested a moment before.

"What…" Hawk was completely speechless.

"Internal bleeding." Stretcher was lunging across the plane, reaching for compartments and pulling a whole host of things out. Syringes, needles, tubing. "She sustained some sort of internal hemorrhaging and the…opening…left in her body isn't large enough to provide an outlet. So that blood's been filling her lower belly the whole time she's been lying out there in the woods with you." His voice was tight with anger as he spoke, but his hands were flying as he swabbed the back of Cam's hand and installed an IV there, then injected something as she lay twisting and crying. After a moment she relaxed and went limp.

Lifeline cut a hole in the sheet over her abdomen, exposing thick white scar tissue, then positioned a large needle, the size of the lead from a standard pencil, over her lower belly. A quick movement plunged the needle home. As the end of the needle started to fill with blood he did some complicated juggling with tubes and syringes and a clear plastic bag, and moments later the blood that had apparently collected in her lower belly started to drain into the bag via a clear plastic tube. It was thick and much darker than Hawk thought blood should be, and there were clots swimming in it.

Stretcher sighed wearily as he rigged the bag to hang. "Scar tissue is thicker than normal skin. So when she sustains trauma to the outside of her skin, she'd going to bleed internally more readily than externally, especially in places where the walls of her blood vessels are thinner and more enlarged because there are fewer vessels going to certain places and what is left had to enlarge in order to maintain bloodflow to bodily organs. In her case, the scarring was extensive in her pelvic region, the blood vessels supplying blood to this region had to enlarge in response to the smaller number of them, and the enlargement made them much more fragile. Added to what you told me about her going hyperthermic, her blood vessels were under a lot of strain and when she was slapped or kicked in her lower abdomen here, where I pressed," that explained Cam's agonized convulsions, "the blood just filled her uterine cavity. The…orifice…left after her body was burned may be large enough to allow her to have a normal period but wasn't large enough to allow the hemorrhage to escape, and it clotted around the opening, blocking it, which was why you thought it stopped. If we hadn't found you today she would have continued to bleed into her abdomen until she just went into shock from blood loss and slipped into a coma."

"And I would never have known." Hawk sat down heavily, stunned. "I didn't see blood outside…I never thought she'd be bleeding internally. Oh God."

"Her hymen is also intact, and that didn't help matters any, it just further obstructed her opening."

"Wait. She's a _virgin_?" Lady Jaye's voice rose. "She's _how_ old and she's still a _virgin_?"

"The People treasure a pure woman," came a quiet voice from the corner, and they jerked, startled; they'd forgotten Spirit was there.

"Yes, well, a treasure she might be, but I doubt that's the reason why. The opening to her body's simply too small to allow someone inside without an incredible amount of trauma. When the scar tissue formed, care wasn't taken to maintain her physical appearance or functionality and long-term workability, so physical intimacy would not be really high on her list, since it would involve extreme physical, mental and emotional pain."

"There's no excuse," Lady Jaye's lips were compressed into a thin, tight line. "There's no excuse for that kind of neglect. Clayton, she never told you what happened?"

"No. She refuses to discuss anything about her past with me. We'll talk later. For now, let me finish. She went hyperthermic and was put under medical supervision for twenty-four hours, then Broadview took her out and PT'd her again, and there was a horrible scene where he grabbed a dull knife and hacked off all her hair. She had hair as long as Charlie's that she braided and wrapped around her head; now…well, you saw it. Oh, Lifeline, that knife nicked the back of her neck a few times in the process of hacking her hair off, and I want you to take a look at it…" Lifeline gently turned her head, and Stretcher dabbed at the cuts as Hawk continued.

"We knew there was a bad storm. The wind and rain were starting to escalate the morning of Day Four of the RTL. Cam was shoved in the night before with no clothes; I'd taken off my shirt and given it to her because it was raining and cold and she was shivering and Broadview didn't give her any clothing, not even the standard POW scrubs we all were wearing. She has the tiniest hands and feet I've ever seen on an adult—the shoes she was given at the RTL didn't fit, and nothing else was provided. Having seen this continuing pattern of neglect, borderline abuse, and ignorance of and for her welfare and personal safety, when we saw our chance to make an escape we did so because I was firmly convinced, and still am, that if we absolutely couldn't stay outside anymore Broadview would have brought us in but would have left her alone out there under some pretext or another. So we made our escape and found a hidesite and just stayed there last night, yesterday, and the night before." He turned to Lady Jaye. "Now what is this I hear about Hilton forbidding you to come look for us?"

"We got to Camp Mackall late yesterday afternoon after the hurricane—yes, it was a hurricane, Category One, made landfall near Cape Lookout. Reason you saw it here was because the storm was roughly about the size of Texas. As we speak now, it's pounding New York, though fortunately it's now a tropical storm instead of a hurricane, but portions of the city had been evacuated, and we were mobilized to help evacuate Staten Island University Hospital and some of the outlying areas." Allie rattled off details quickly, then got back to her story. "We got here and checked in with Hilton, and the first thing that hit me was that he was unfriendly. Very unfriendly. Normally you expect something like that from another base, because you're basically encroaching on their territory, but at the moment they don't have electricity or power, communications have been cut off, and no search and rescue effort for you had been authorized or could be mobilized." She sighed. "I would have thought under those conditions they would have welcomed our help, but he was very, very rude, even to the point of asking how we knew the Lieutenant General and why he was taking such an interest in your activities and whereabouts. Wild Bill pointed out that since you were a two-star General in charge of a highly-classified top secret project, it was only natural that both we and Johnson were concerned about your disappearance, and that we were going to look for you as per our orders whether he officially gave us his permission or not. He told us that the area had been hit hard, that we wouldn't have any luck finding you, and that we could go ahead and try but he didn't hold out hope for us and it would be better to wait for help to arrive from Fort Bragg. We took a consensus, all five of us, and came out here to find you."

"And you found us. Didn't even take a lot of time, since you're barely even wet. How did you know where we were?"

"Started at the prearranged airlift site and just went from there. You actually weren't all that far away; Charlie was impressed you guys had gotten as far from Camp Mackall as you did. And you kept your training group together and healthy."

"With one exception." He looked at Cam, lying on the stretcher, asleep; Lifeline was wrapping bandages around her feet. Stretcher was carefully dabbing antiseptic ointment to the raw patches on her head.

"Well, from what you said her injuries were mostly inflicted before your escape."

"Yes. They were. And as for the progress we made—that was her doing. She set a punishing pace while we tried to get to the airlift site before conditions got too bad to send an aircraft out, that's why her feet look the way they do—but we were stopped halfway when a tree came down. We'd tied ourselves together with vines so we didn't lose anyone, and she was on point. She threw herself down a hill, taking us all with her, so we wouldn't get crushed by a falling tree. After that I decided just to hide and wait it out, so when she woke up she got a fire started, we used branches and leaves and stuff to build up our hideout, and got some sleep. When we woke up it looked like it had mostly blown over so we started out. And here we are." He sat down exhaustedly. "Let's just get back to Camp Mackall. We'll worry about everything else after we get there."


	2. Chapter 25: Mackall

**Chapter 25: Mackall**

As they landed on Camp Mackall's airstrip, it looked like half the base was out there. Hilton, Broadview, Halloran and Potter came running out of the administrative barracks as Wild Bill brought the plane to a full stop, but the base's complement, the soldiers of the 82nd, were assembled and waiting. As the door opened and Hawk stepped out, followed by the rest of the trainees, a restrained cheer went up—and then died down to mutters as Lifeline and Spirit stepped off, carrying Cam on a stretcher between them. Stretcher had decided to keep her asleep for the time being, to reduce her physical movement and keep a handle on the internal bleeding until he could perform surgery to fix whatever was going on, so she was lying still on the stretcher and it was obvious that she was injured. The muttering from the 82nd increased.

Hilton came to a stop in front of Hawk and saluted stiffly. "Welcome back to Camp Mackall."

Hawk really didn't feel like saluting, but he decided for form's sake to do so. Behind him and slightly to his right, Wild Bill did so as well; and Lady Jaye did the same from his left shoulder. "We have wounded that need attending to…"

"Right here," came a terse voice. "Colonel Potter, CMO here at Camp Mackall. I would offer you the use of our medical facilities but at the moment since we have no power, your wounded would be better off staying on your aircraft. My expertise and supplies are at your service however." Hilton shot Potter a dirty look, but the shorter, older man seemed unfazed by the anger from his commanding officer.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Hawk said with unfeigned warmth to Potter, and the shorter man nodded brusquely, then followed Lifeline, Stretcher, Spirit, and the unconscious Cam back to the G4. Hawk watched them go, then turned to Hilton. "Base Commander Hilton. We have some things to talk about, but I will not do so here. You, Colonel Broadview, and Colonel Halloran will wait on my pleasure. I want a bath and some hot food and some sleep before I deal with you, and I believe the trainees would appreciate the same. In the meantime, on my authority as a General in the US Army, I am calling a halt to further training activities here at Camp Mackall due to my deep concern at the egregious lack of consideration for trainee safety and health during these training exercises. As soon as communication is reestablished here I will be referring this situation to Lieutenant General Johnson. My medics will be in charge of Trainee Arlington's medical care from here; Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett, you will prepare the paperwork transferring responsibility for Trainee Arlington's care to my purview as soon as possible, as the authorities here at Camp Mackall are clearly unable to properly ensure her health and safety." Lady Jaye nodded once, curtly.

Hawk turned on his heel and headed for the barracks. They were lit by emergency lighting, just enough to see by, and his clean fatigues with his name patch on them were familiar and absurdly welcome after the last two weeks; first out in the forest for the S&E, then the RTL, and particularly the hurricane-tossed escape. A couple of the trainees were already asleep, but most of them were awake. A handful of them, Warren included, had already taken the opportunity to have a quick shower.

He took a shower, scrubbing quickly but fiercely to get every last bit of grime and filth from his skin, ignoring the dressings Lifeline had applied to his back. The scratches were superficial and would heal without further care; he just wanted to get clean, and as he pulled his fatigues on, clean, familiar, wonderful, he finally felt semi-human again.

From the looks on his trainee's faces, they felt the same way as he exited the showers, and even though suddenly all he really wanted to do was lie down and sleep, of course duty and responsibility came first. "Thank you, to each and every one of you," he said to all of them, and a few of the trainees still awake nudged their comrades until all twelve were awake and looking at him. "Completion of these training exercises has been due in large part to each one of you, and you are among the finest Rangers I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Please be assured that what will happen next has no bearing on you, your training and how you have comported yourselves during the last few weeks."

"What does come next?" Warren asked, a little bolder than the others.

"I'm going to refer the situation here to Lieutenant General Johnson. One of the instructors here allowed personal feelings to carry over into his work, with the resultant deplorable effects on a trainee's health, safety, welfare, and almost her life. Something needs to be done—the next time something like this happens a trainee could die and it was sheer luck that Cam Arlington didn't this time. I will be requesting a formal inquiry into the matter from Lieutenant General Johnson and should he find sufficient evidence for a court martial, rest assured that I will prosecute it if such a move is warranted."

"What do you think is going to happen?" Demo asked Hawk.

Hawk sighed and sat down on his bed, propping his feet up. Damn, but it felt good to be able to stretch out and lie down. I'm getting too old for this, and then he pushed aside thoughts of his comfort and focused on the question he'd been asked. "There will be a formal inquiry at the very least, a general court-martial at the most," he said, thinking about what he knew of the Lieutenant General. They hadn't had many dealings with him yet; until the Operation: White Queen fiasco, General Clancy had been their immediate superior. For the moment, until another replacement could be found for the late, not-much-lamented Clancy, Johnson was their immediate superior. Clancy would have dismissed it; Johnson… Hawk simply didn't know.

"You'll need swearable testimony for even an inquiry, won't you?" Ryder, this time.

"Yes, I will. Are you volunteering?" he was joking, so it took him by surprise when Ryder nodded in perfect seriousness. "Seriously."

"Yes, Sir." Ryder nodded firmly. "I will testify."

"Me too," Demo said.

"So will I." Warren pinned Hawk with a look. "We will tell the exact truth, just as we saw it."

"Hilton and the rest of this base will try to intimidate you into staying silent. They don't this to get out," Hawk warned.

"I don't care!" Ryder got up out of his bed and paced, drawing all eyes; he was normally quite so this sudden burst of temper from his was unusual. "Sir. No one who considered themselves human could look at what was done to Cam during these training exercises and not get angry. Look at what happened to her, Jesus, she almost died! I know the intent of these exercises is to apply maximum combat realism to prepare us for such a situation of we're ever in it, but what happened…that's stuff that isn't supposed to happen. Not in training. Kicking her wasn't in the manuals. Hacking off half her hair and yanking out the other half isn't in the manuals either. It was unpardonable and unconscionable and Broadview deserves a court martial!"

The rest of the barracks was silent, but as Hawk looked around at these ten men, he could see the same resolution on all of their faces. Sometime during the training exercises they had formed a solid bond and that was now carrying over. And when Rangers banded together, there was nothing they couldn't do…including take down one stubborn, unethical, prejudiced bastard like Broadview.

"I agree with you, and I applaud your nerve. I'm going to quietly have my staff sergeant give you some of those DD47 testimony forms for you to fill out as evidence in case this does get to the court martial phase. So in the meantime, get some sleep; you all have more than earned it." He stretched out flat on his back, groaned at the absolute sheer pleasure of lying down on something soft, and closed his eyes in bliss.

When he opened them next it was morning.

"Good morning, Sir," Lady Jaye grinned at him as he climbed into the G4 the next morning.

"Good morning," he said, grinning back. He felt almost human again…except for the gnawing hunger in his middle. He was going to head for the mess hall next…but he wanted to check on Cam first. "How is she?"

"Much better, thank goodness," Lady Jaye said cheerfully. "Colonel Potter and Lifeline and Stretcher did some emergency surgery on her last night and stopped the hemorrhaging in her middle. The swelling in her abdomen went down, and the antibiotics seem to be working on the infection in her foot and the cuts on the back of her neck. She's getting vitamins and nutrients in her IV along with the painkillers, and Stretcher said he was going to do some research this morning and see what options are available to treat old burn scars like hers. And I gave her hair a quick trim so she doesn't look like she got in a fight with a lawnmower."

"Couldn't he just call Doc? Doc spearheaded the reconstructive efforts on Snake Eyes' face, so he has some experience."

"Tried. Couldn't get through. The hurricane passed through New York last night and from what we're looking at on the news reports, there are power outages and floods all over the city. Lieutenant General Johnson told us we should plan on staying a week, so seeing as how communications and power are disrupted all up and down the eastern seaboard, looks like we'll have to. The camp here is running on generators. There isn't a huge complement here, so that works, but Fort Bragg is out of power and cut off due to trees being down all over the roads going to base." She handed him a folder.

"What's this?" He stared suspiciously at it, as if it would bite.

"Her medical folder. Stretcher and Lifeline and Colonel Potter put it together last night. Colonel Potter added some info he found from the personnel folder that came from her Ranger base at Fort Benning, and the photos taken of her when she came in after you guys were 'captured' from the S&E portion of the exercise. He told Stretcher and Lifeline we would find it useful in prosecuting Broadview, and Hilton by extension."

"Colonel Potter didn't know?"

"She was brought in, along with the rest of your team, while Potter was on break. According to him, when he came in Broadview had a hose out and was hosing Cam down as she stood in a corner of the interrogation room. Potter said he suspected Broadview had it on high pressure but he couldn't be sure because Broadview shut it off as soon as Potter opened the door. Stretcher suspects that Broadview might have slapped or hit her lower belly hard enough and enough times to start the hemorrhaging, then washed her down with the hose to hide the fact that she'd started bleeding and then rushed her out to PT so no one would know."

"So he knew. He knew he'd hurt her. He knew she was bleeding internally. And he just washed it off and pretended like it didn't happen." Hawk gritted his teeth.

"Hawk." Lady Jaye spoke firmly. "There is a chance he may not have known. It wouldn't be the first time that a woman had her period during SERE training."

"Who's side are you on?" he glared at her."

"I'm not taking sides, I'm just pointing out that there are other possible explanations for what happened. If you looked at just this one incident and didn't look at anything else, it's reasonable; he could have thought she'd started her period. But when you look at what's happened since you guys arrived here, the hyperthermia, the hair, the kicking and ongoing abuse, withholding clothes and shoes…yes, she's been Broadview's target from day one, he doesn't like her and he did let it affect how he conducted her training. And no training exercise should have ended with a trainee looking like she does now. Scarlett and I handle PT for the female recruits on base and none of our recruits ever end a training exercise looking like that—you'd kill us if they did."

Hawk grinned a little. She grinned back, then sobered. "You keep an eye on everything that happens on Joe base. If anyone did to a recruit what Broadview did to Cam, you'd have that person's ass in the brig faster than Snake Eyes can draw his sword. So Cam's current condition is as much Hilton's fault as it is Broadview's. Broadview for doing it, Hilton for not keeping a close watch and supervising what his people did. I think you got grounds for a court martial on both of them, Broadview for abuse and reckless endangerment and Hilton for negligence." She looked past Hawk as the door to the Gulfstream opened. "Hey Charlie." She turned to Hawk. "Charlie's going to sit with Cam while I go with you and Wild Bill to talk to Hilton and Broadview and Halloran."

"I'm hoping she'll wake up," The big Navajo admitted. "We had something for you to give her." He reached for his pack, slung over the back of one of the seats, and drew out a long slender cylinder of wood.

Hawk stared. "Is that…"

"A cedar blank, yes," Charlie said. "It's already hollowed out, so all she needs to do is carve it. I assumed she would already have tools to carve it with, though."

"She might, in her things. Her pack and personal gear are in the women's barracks on the other side of camp." He looked at Charlie. "Tell, you what, you give it to her when she wakes up."

"I'll get her things after we're done talking to Hilton and the rest of the camp admin," Lady Jaye said. "She'll probably welcome having her own clothes again—I remember how much better Alex felt after Ettienne brought that suitcase of clothes Liv packed for her."

"How is Liv? Is she going to be okay in New York during the storm? I heard you mention something about evacuations, is she going to have to evacuate? She's already seen the base, and so has Alex so if you don't have to evacuate you know you can bring both of them to stay until they can go home—" He stopped, because Allie was laughing so hard she was almost falling out of her seat.

"I knew you were going to change your mind as we got closer to her delivery date!"

"I'm not changing my mind! I'm concerned about a friend who's pregnant!"

Lady Jaye got herself under control, although her brown eyes still sparkled with merriment. "Okay. Whatever you say. Come on, let's go. Wild Bill's in the mess hall grabbing chow—apparently one of the guys here is a friend of his from way back, and they been catching up like it's old home week. I've been subtly encouraging it because…well…" she dropped her voice. "Lieutenant General Johnson told Flint and I that we should find out how this happened and put together a full report for him. So while you're working on your report regarding Cam's treatment, I'm working on a report on how an entire company of the US army managed to lose a certain decorated general and eleven green trainees." She stopped speaking as a group of three soldiers; a sergeant and two corporals, came up and saluted him.

"Sergeant Masters, Corporal Carter, Corporal Tibbs." Lady Jaye nodded politely. Hawk nodded politely at them too, but the guys didn't keep walking; instead, the Sergeant took a look around as if to find out if anyone was watching them, then addressed Hawk directly. "Sir. I don't know if you remember me—"

"Yes, I do. You picked Cam up out of the mud after Broadview kicked her in the ribs. And you took her shackles off." He felt Lady Jaye tense, ever so slightly, beside him, but she said nothing.

"I—yes sir, that was me—and this is Corporal Tibbs, he's the one who ran for the hose when she went hyperthermic in the pen…" Tibbs nodded, blushing slightly, "And that's Corporal Carter, he's the one who protested when Broadview hacked off her hair." He took a deep breath. "Sir. I feel obliged to tell you that we've been ordered to keep our reports short and factual, and not to add any extraneous information. We've also been told that Base Commander Hilton said he'd review our reports 'for accuracy' prior to filing them with the paperwork for this training class. You know what that means, Sir."

Hawk gritted his teeth. While the Base Commander couldn't tell them outright to lie, he could 'redact' the soldiers' reports and say they were confidential, and he could order them to keep those reports short. "I do indeed. Thank you for the information, soldier—"

"Sir." There was suddenly a sheaf of folded paper in Sergeant Master's hands. "We decided that the full reports should be entrusted to those we know aren't going to try and suppress the truth. We've seen Broadview engage in some questionable behavior with other female trainees, but previously there were other women in the classes and we guessed he'd toned down his animosity because it would be noticed. This is the first time he's supervised a class with only one woman, and we guess he felt free to do what he wanted to seeing as how at the beginning of the course you were the only one on her side."

Hawk took the papers, stunned, then tucked them carefully inside the medical folder he had, making sure it was hidden well down in the back pocket of the folder. "Thank you, Sergeant," he said quietly, and the three saluted and walked off.

"So someone else has noticed. Good." Lady Jaye smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile. It was a smile that didn't bode well for Hilton and Broadview; a hard, maliciously angry smile. "Let's go hunt the hunter, shall we?"

Hawk was forcibly reminded that women could be even more quietly vicious than men.


	3. Chapter 26: Interview

**Chapter 26: Interview**

"Good morning, General Abernathy, Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett, Warrant Officer Hardy." Hilton oozed politeness as Hawk walked into the briefing room flanked by Lady Jaye and Wild Bill. "General Hawk, I trust you slept well."

"Better than Ranger Arlington, no thanks to you," Hawk said grimly as he sat down and waited for them to seat themselves. Then he leaned forward, letting the hard stony look that made him legend around Joe base fill his eyes and features, letting the steely glint of anger show in the tight corners of his eyes and mouth. "I'm not going to pull any punches on this, I'm not going to sugarcoat this, and I'm not going easy on you—you certainly didn't go easy on Cam. I _am_ going to write a full report on what has happened since I set foot in this camp on day one and it will be submitted, along with a request for a preliminary inquiry into how you're running the training program here, to Lieutenant General Johnson. I assume he will then get in touch with your superior, who, I believe, is Chief General Hall at US Southern Command. And I do know Chief General Hall too; I just wrapped up a top secret operation with him, by the way." He saw Hilton's knuckles turn white as the man clenched his fists. "Everything you've done since I got here has been borderline questionable; from the moment you tried to exclude Arlington by telling her since no one wanted to work with her she couldn't take the course, to telling us all that if she dropped out we would all fail. Making excuses when the altercation happened in the meadow and her personal property was broken. Your lack of comment when she was locked in her footlocker for eighteen hours on what you called a childish prank. She could have died then, of asphyxiation, of suffocation, of an embolism. And later, during the exercise; not realizing or not caring that her physical condition wouldn't let her regulate body heat, you PT'd her in a hundred and seven degree heat, refused her water and rest even when it was clearly indicated.

"Throughout this entire exercise you have consistently shown a clear lack of concern for her welfare, safety, health, and life. She is—according to her file, her commanding officer, and what I personally have seen of her skills, training, character, and abilities—a valuable asset to the US Army; and the recklessness with which you have repeatedly ignored that fact raises serious concerns in my mind for your ability to properly handle training for SERE candidates."

"You don't understand," Hilton said, sounding (to Lady Jaye) slightly panicked. "Ranger Arlington will be working support for a Ranger detachment. No matter how badly she wants a field assignment, it simply is not going to happen because women do not operate forward of the front line of troops. Therefore, her inclusion, participation, and credit for this course was unnecessary for her file."

"By making her the 'target' of supposed 'enemy exploitation' efforts, the intent was to focus on those trainees who do need this course in order to achieve their career goals," Broadview spoke placatingly. "By fostering in them a sense of teamwork, fair play, and concern for the welfare of their teammate. At the start of this course there was a certain element of divisiveness caused by Ranger Arlington's gender; at the conclusion of the course, the trainees unanimously decided to escape the SERE stockade with her rather than watch me leave her, as I convinced her I would do, outside in the storm."

"You told her you were going to leave her out there in the hurricane?" Lady Jaye asked.

"I told her I would leave her out there in the storm. I didn't know it was a hurricane and we had no idea it was going to reach this far inland, and I had no intention of actually doing it."

"You were not going to leave her outside _at all_?" Lady Jay drilled Broadview with hard eyes.

He almost squirmed. "Not for long. Just long enough to make my point."

"'Just long enough to make your point'." Hawk's voice was icy. "Colonel Broadview, by this point in the training you had _already_ made your point. At the end of a knife, actually, when you cut her hair off with a dull blade and accidentally and carelessly cut the back of her neck. Jesus, Broadview, a member of your own Company here at the 82nd told you to stop, that you'd made your point! And you still continued after telling that soldier to shut up! And upon completion of that little exercise, when she was demoralized and exhausted from having been PT'd nude the entire day, utterly humiliated by having been paraded in double shackles and a dog leash all over the camp, had just had her hair hacked off and ripped out of her head, when she didn't move quickly enough for you, you kicked her hard enough to knock the breath out of her and bruise her ribs."

"SERE trainin's s'posed ta be hard," Wild Bill said quietly from where he was sitting, his drawling accent thicker, as it always got when he was angry. "It ain't s'posed ta be that hard. I been sittin' here listenin' t'what Hawk's been sayin' an' even 'thout bein' here, I'm convinced Hawk's right an' y'all are lookin' at some court-martial offenses here. I ain't buyin' that cockamamie story you just cooked up there 'bout focusin' on her in order to get the team to bond. Ain't necessary—half these trainees ain't never gonna see each other again anyway."

"I have a question," Lady Jaye broke the heavy silence that fell after wild Bill stopped speaking. "What happened in the interrogation rooms when Ranger Arlington got here?"

"What happens in those rooms stays in those rooms," Hilton snapped, no longer even bothering to be polite. "SERE-C is classified."

"I know that perfectly well," Lady Jaye said with cold firmness. "I went through it a while ago—I graduated Ranger school myself. Nothing happened to me like what Hawk describes happening to Ranger Arlington. And as for 'what happens in the rooms stays in the rooms', that doesn't apply when Ranger Arlington left it with severe lower abdominal injuries that caused steady internal hemorrhaging and would have eventually led to shock from blood loss and death had our team not gone out, found them and treated her quickly."

"I saw no sign of internal hemorrhaging." Broadview said quickly.

"No. You wouldn't have because you weren't watching and didn't care. Don't worry, I can tell you what you did. During Phase I of the interrogation when they first came in from the field and you're supposed to do the 'initial intake' with medical photos of each trainee's existing injuries after a week of S&E, you had her take her clothes off, then you photographed her and questioned her, using the techniques that are approved for the SERE course, among them of which is the abdominal slap. You used it multiple times, what could possibly be considered excessive. Then you started seeing blood on her legs, ridiculed her for getting her period, and used a high-pressure hose to wash her down.

"Let me explain to you what was happening inside her body as you were doing this. Because of her pre-existing medical condition—the burn scarring on her torso and upper legs—she doesn't have as many blood vessels in her body supplying blood to her various organs and extremities. So what few blood vessels are left had to enlarge in order to keep adequate supply to her organs. Enlargement makes those blood vessels weaker, but the scar tissue that replaced sixty percent of her skin is thicker than skin, so when you started hitting her, blood vessels ruptured and the blood didn't have anywhere to go but stay inside. She bled into her uterine cavity when the blows you gave her ruptured her uterine wall, and that was why you saw blood. When you used the high-pressure hose on her it not only cleaned her off but it ruptured more blood vessels in her abdominal cavity, which started the hemorrhaging. Her physical condition would have been deteriorating from that point on; by the time she decided to try an escape from the stockade she had to be in terrible pain from her lower abdomen and escape out into the storm might have been the only way she could see to get away from you. Telling her you would leave her out there alone in the storm created feelings of desperation, terror, and a determination to escape further physical and emotional trauma; at that point, going out into the storm was preferable to staying here. Added to that, she was experiencing fever, nausea and intense pain, and the exhaustion, sleep, food, and water deprivation didn't help her make any rational decisions either. And in case you're wondering how I know this…I helped our medics in the emergency room last night when they performed emergency surgery to release the trapped blood and stop the hemorrhaging."

Hawk sat stunned. Christ, he hadn't known… "I've heard enough. I'm contacting Ranger Arlington's base commander at Fort Benning and requesting that he sign assignment papers transferring her to my care; we'll be able to care for her and ensure her safety while I request my Staff Sergeant and my Warrant Officer here to initiate a preliminary inquiry, which will then be forwarded to Lieutenant General Johnson." He pushed his chair back from the table and stood, mirrored by Lady Jaye and Wild Bill, and all three of them left.

Outside he slumped. "Allie, Jesus, I didn't know she was that bad. She's so stoic…she never complained. I didn't know she was in that much pain, and then she came with us out into the hurricane!"

"You didn't know, Clayton. She didn't tell you, how could you have known? I'm going to have a few words with her when she wakes up about being responsible for reporting deteriorating physical condition to a superior officer, but honestly, with everything else that was going on and her confused, sleep-deprived mental state, she probably did what she thought best. And she had to have been pretty desperate, to think that being out in the woods in a storm was preferable to staying here, and Broadview must have had her convinced he actually was going to leave her out here or she would never have tried escape." She finished quietly, "No one should feel that kind of desperation during training."

"I agree. You want to go to the barracks and get Cam's gear? She doesn't have much, one regulation-issue pack and a duffel bag, but make sure all her things are inside it. During the classroom week her flute was broken and someone dumped crap—literally—into her bag and threw it in the pond behind her barracks. She has a lock on her footlocker but everyone pretty much knows the combination. It's six, twenty, eight." Lady Jaye nodded. "Make sure her dancing shoes are in it—you know those little pink shoes that ballerinas wear? She has a pair of those. And make sure you get her swords, too—she has a twin-blade baton."

"Swords and ballet shoes." Lady Jaye shook her head, but hurried off anyway.

Cam was still sleeping when he got back into the G4, and Charlie was stretched out across the seats next to her, grabbing some shut-eye himself. Hawk didn't disturb either of them; instead, he went forward and tapped in a code.

He wasn't sure he'd remembered it right, so it was with some relief that he heard a voice come in over the comm line. "Fort Benning, Office of the Base Commander."

"Yes, this is General Clayton Abernathy. I need to talk to Base Commander Shelton Dixon, please. It is something of an emergency; this is in reference to one of the Rangers he sent to North Carolina for SERE-C training. I'm pretty sure he'll know who it's about."

Moments later Dixon was on the line. "Clayton! Damn, you're a sight for sore eyes! I was wondering how you all had fared up there with the hurricane and all."  
"Not well, Shelton. Listen, do you have some time to talk?"

"For you, Clayton, yes. Go ahead."

There were advantages to being a General, and one of them was that when you asked for someone's time and attention, you usually got it. Hawk could have ordered Dixon to clear his schedule for the next two hours, but decided not to; he needed to be on Dixon's good side in order to get the man to sign off on transfer papers assigning Cam to Hawk's project, and he might not get that cooperation if he threw his rank around or sounded accusatory or overemotional. So he tried to keep the anger out of his voice as he outlined the situation for Dixon, told the man exactly what had been happening since the last time they'd talked in Hilton's office. When he was done there was dead silence on the other end.

"Shelton?" Clayton asked after the silence stretched out beyond what would have been thought comfortable. "Still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here. Wish I wasn't. Jesus." He sounded tired. "Christ, Abernathy, I never thought she'd go through something like this. When I filled out the paperwork to send Arlington to SERE-C one of my soldiers told me I needed to send at least two women, but I didn't have any other women who were at this point in their training. He told me to wait, to send her when I had two, but I decided to send her. I guess now I know why. So you're telling me she's injured?"

"My base sent out a team to get me from New York. They passed the storm by stopping over at Letterkenny Army Depot in Pennsylvania, then came here to find me. Their reception was...not friendly, and if they hadn't had a signed set of orders from Lieutenant General Johnson expressly ordering them to find me, they probably would never have been allowed to lift off from Camp Mackall. Suffice it to say they found us in the middle of the North Carolina woods, and it was just in time; my medic spent last night performing emergency surgery to fix Cam's internal hemorrhaging."

"Is she going to be okay?" Dixon sounded horrified.

"I don't know. She still looks pretty bad, and she's been sleeping all day, not that that's any indicator—if I didn't have to deal with this I would still be sleeping too. Most of the other trainees have." Clayton took a deep breath."Listen, Shelton. I have a favor I wanted to ask you."

"Yes," Shelton said immediately. "Yes. I can have the paperwork sent to your base, assuming you still have power—I'm assuming Camp Mackall doesn't or you would be talking to me right now on vidphone. And while I'm at it I'll send over what I have of Arlington's medical file; I assume you'll want that to build a case for Johnson to declare a court-martial."

"How did you know?" Clayton blinked.

"Because when you got done telling me what happened I was considering convening a court martial too. I think you're better equipped to do it, though, provided you can talk Arlington into it."

"She has to see that what happened to her was completely atypical and can't be allowed to happen again!"

"Oh, I don't doubt that. But she's put a lot of effort into trying to appear stronger and tougher and better than everyone else on this base, and she never complains about anything. I'm telling you you're going to have a hard time talking her into cooperating in preferring charges against Hilton and Broadview." He hesitated, then said, "Part of that I think is going to be her unwillingness to talk about her physical condition. I've tried multiple times to get her to talk to me about how she got all those scars. She's flatly refused every time. She doesn't discuss it; she pretends like it didn't happen. She avoids it altogether."

"I have a soldier on my base whose face was badly burned in a helicopter crash some years back. He went through some extensive surgery to fix his scars, and because of his experience my docs have a pretty good idea how to fix scars and do reconstructive surgery, particularly on burns. I'm hoping that while she's at my base we can start some reconstructing."

"You can try. I wish you luck," Dixon said. "You're going to need it. She's stubborn as hell. Good soldier—excellent soldier—but stubborn as hell. All right, Clayton, I'll have that paperwork signed and at your base by the end of the day. Good luck, and you let me know how that court-martial's coming, okay?"

"Will do. Thanks, Shelton."


	4. Chapter 27:Awakening

**Chapter 27: Awakening**

"Ohhhh…"

The harsh moan cut through the silence of the plane, jolting Clayton into immediate wakefulness.

He'd told himself he was just going to lean his head back in the seat and rest, but he must have fallen asleep because out the front window of the plane he could see a beautiful sunset. _I must have slept the whole day,_ he growled to himself, and then lost his train of thought as the harsh moan came again.

"Ssshhh," came another voice, male this time. Clayton turned the chair around, and saw, in the rear of the craft, Cam was awake, her head tossing on the pillow. Charlie had been sleeping on the seats next to her, and he'd woken much faster than Clayton had, sitting up alert. "It's all right, you're going to be okay."

"Who are you?" she croaked, and Clayton winced at the dry rasp of her voice.

"My name is Spirit. I'm one of the soldiers on General Hawk's base." Charlie pressed a hand to her shoulder. "No, don't sit up. You'll tear the stitches on your stomach."

"Stitches?" Cam raised her head to look down at her stomach. "I can't feel anything."

"Good, then that means the painkillers are working," Clayton said as he ducked into the rear compartment, then fished around in a nearby compartment for a bottle of water. "Here. I know we've been pumping fluids into you but there's no substitute for good cold water."

"Thank you," she whispered, and took the bottle in shaking fingers. Charlie leaned forward and held it for her, and she drank deeply, then lay back with her eyes closed. "What happened?" she asked, just as Hawk thought she'd gone back to sleep.

He sat down in one seat. "Well, let's see. My team—Wild Bill, Lady Jaye, Spirit here, and Stretcher and Lifeline, my two medics—found us in the middle of the North Carolina wilderness and brought us back to Camp Mackall. They did some emergency surgery on you last night to stop the internal hemorrhaging, and this morning I officially called a halt to the exercises and informed Base Commander Hilton and Colonels Broadview and Halloran of my intention to have Wild Bill and Lady Jaye begin the process of putting together a preliminary inquiry into the events surrounding the last three weeks."

"Lady Jaye brought your pack from the women's barracks." Spirit gestured to the familiar pack and duffel now sitting in a corner of the plane. "Hawk, you were asleep when she did it, and she said to tell you that Stretcher and Lifeline are documenting the other trainees' conditions for post-training evaluations; she's interviewing those trainees who are willing to talk to them and provide sworn statements as to what happened, and Wild Bill has a couple of former buddies here with the 82nd and I believe he's been coaxing information from them and getting swearable testimony too. Lady Jaye said that Broadview had more enemies here than he knew, and not all the members of the 82nd have been entirely comfortable with some of what he's done during the last few weeks to Cam."

"Polaris," Cam said, but she wasn't looking at Hawk; she was looking at Spirit. "My codename is Polaris."

"The north star." Charlie smiled at her. "It suits you."

"My Iroquois name is Kenastie Scannado, the Deer-Who-Leads."

Spirit grinned broadly. "Charlie IronKnife. Pleased to meet you, Deer-Who-Leads." She grinned, then turned her attention to Hawk. "A preliminary inquiry for what?"

"I'm going to have Lady Jaye and Wild Bill put together the inquiry with the intent of preferring charges against Broadview, and Hilton, to a lesser extent, for how they've handled this training. If Lieutenant General Johnson does what I think he will, they'll be looking at a court martial in a month or so."

"A court-martial!" Cam shot bolt upright, then winced and laid a hand over her stomach. "Oww…"

"Lie down and don't move. Yes, a court martial."

She stared at him eyes wide. "Hawk…no!"

"Yes." He wasn't going to make it easy for her. "Cam, what they did was a triable offense. I'd have to look up the actual articles—I'm not sure, but assault and reckless endangerment come to mind."

"No…no…you can't!" she was almost crying now as she ignored Charlie's hands and forced herself to a sitting position. "Clayton, please!"

"Why?" Her reaction wasn't making any sense to Hawk. "Cam, just answer me one question. Why? Don't you realize that what they did to you they could do to the next woman who goes through the training? And the next, and the next? If someone doesn't stand up to them and tell them they're wrong, how will things be better for anyone? I have two women on my base who are Ranger-qualified, who graduated from Ranger school, and one told me—and Broadview and Hilton—that when she went through the training it didn't even resemble what you went through!"

"You…I can't, Clayton, please! Just let it go!"

"No," he said firmly, remorselessly. "Cam, it has to stop. From what Dixon told me, you're not the first woman it's happened to under Broadview's tutelage, but I swear to God you will be the last."

"Clayton, please," she croaked. "I can't go back to Fort Benning and face all of them and know they know what happened—I tried so hard to prove I was as good as they are, even better, and now it's all gone."

"You're not going back to Fort Benning. You're coming back to my base with me. Sometime today Dixon should have gotten those forms sent to my base and my people will expect me to come back with you. I have a Doc back at base who's got a lot of experience with burn scars, I want him to have a look at you and see what can be done about improving your appearance and functionality."

"I…you'd…really?" Cam seemed stunned at that revelation. "But…why?"

He stared at her. "Why not? Cam, I haven't faced you about what happened, but seriously, when the fire happened someone should have done something! There's no reason for you to have to go through life looking like you do! Why in God's name didn't someone help you?"

"They did help me! They did everything they could!" She was angry now. "They tried everything. They begged me to let them take me to a white man's hospital, but I wouldn't let them…I couldn't let them."

'Them' must have been the Iroquois. She'd ended up with them after the fire and they had tried to help her. They had tried to help her, and she hadn't let them. "Cam. Why?"

"Because I deserved to get burned."

He sucked in a breath. "Cam. No one deserves to be burned that bad. Jesus, you had to be in screaming pain every waking moment for like, a month. All right, I'm not going to push it now, but you'll have to talk to someone sometime, okay?" He sat down and tried to think of something else to say, something different; she was getting upset, and struggling, and if she opened stitches he would be the one getting yelled at for getting her upset.

Charlie said unexpectedly, "We have something for you." And he reached into his rucksack and brought out a narrow white cardboard box. She took it with a wondering look, and opened it, and suddenly her eyes were filled with tears, of a very different sort this time. "Oh. Oh Clayton."

"Charlie told me there was no way we could replace the one that broke, so when he suggested that a blank suitable for you to carve would be an acceptable alternative, I told him to try and find one."

Cam's cheeks were damp as she took the narrow cylinder from its box. "It's lovely. It's better than the one I had. This one isn't spalted. The braves of Wolf Clan were picking out the branches they wanted to make courting flutes with, but because I wasn't a brave, I got what was left."

"No leftovers. I asked the Chief of my tribe to select the best he had for a warrior of the People, and this is what he sent." Charlie said quietly. "The carving of a flute holds some different symbolism for the Navajo, who are my people, but the basic materials are the same."

"We are the Haudenasaunee, the People of the Great Mountain," Cam said. "On Cattaraugus County Reservation, in western New York. It's beautiful up there, right on Lake Erie."

"Dine, from Taos Pueblo, New Mexico. It's right on the desert, and it's hot and dry but the river cuts its way through deep canyons, and there is a stark, forbidding kind of beauty in the landscape…"

To Clayton it looked like the two of them had forgotten that any other people existed in the entire world, so he slipped out of the plane, closing the door quietly behind him, and went to look for Lady Jaye and Wild Bill and his EMO's.

As he got closer to the barracks that housed the classrooms, where he assumed Lady Jaye would have set up an interview and conference room, he heard shouting. He broke into a jog-trot, wincing at the ache in his knees and legs, and reached the classrooms a moment later.

Lady Jaye was standing behind the classroom's instructor's desk; Colonel Broadview stood in front of it, and another soldier stood stiffly, rigidly, at attention beside the desk, having gotten up from a chair. Hawk recognized him as one of the soldiers who'd been assigned to guard the SERE-C trainees in the stockade—a man who'd deliberately ignored the fact that the 'prisoners' were talking.

"I am telling you this interview is over!" Broadview snarled at Lady Jaye.

"And I am telling you it is not. Not until I say it is." In contrast to Broadview's shouting, Lady Jaye's voice was quiet, but there was an edge of steel in it. "Colonel, you are hindering an investigation."

"And you're ignoring my orders! I ordered this interview session to end, and you've refused to cease. That's a direct violation of orders—"

"My orders to Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett supersede your orders, since I rank you." Hawk folded his arms, glaring stonily at Broadview. "She is also a member of my command, so if you have questions about her ability to carry out the orders I gave her, you come to me. Is that understood, Colonel?" Broadview stared at Hawk for a moment, then turned on his heel and strode out. Hawk briefly considered going after him to call him on his lack of respect for a superior officer—not saluting Hawk before he left—but decided not to. Instead he turned to Lady Jaye and the soldier, smiled at the soldier and said, "At ease, soldier."

"Yes Sir. Thank You Sir." The soldier relaxed visibly.

"I think I have everything I need. Thank you for your testimony, Corporal." Lady Jaye smiled at him, and he grinned back.

"You're welcome, Ma'am. Um…would it be out of line for me to ask how the trainee is, Ma'am? We haven't seen her since you guys came back in…there are rumors she's hurt—"

"Ranger Arlington underwent emergency surgery last night to fix internal damage sustained during the course of the training exercise, but she'll be fine with a little rest," Lady Jaye said, after a thoughtful look at the young Corporal.

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. I'll spread the word. The guy's'll be happy to hear it." And the corporal ducked out the door.

"Are you done, or did you just let him go because of Broadview's pressure?" Hawk asked Lady Jaye as she gathered up the pile of papers sitting on the desk top.

"A little of both. These soldiers are going to have to continue working here under Colonel Broadview and Base Commander Hilton, and those two gentlemen have the power to court martial and/or discharge every single soldier I talked to, whether they were willing to give me testimony or not. I don't want to make it any harder on them than I have to. But yes, I'm about done. Wild Bill told me we re-established communications with Flint late this afternoon—you were sleeping and we didn't want to disturb you—so we decided to wrap up our portions of the respective interviews this evening and head back tomorrow morning. Despite Colonel Potter's willingness to share his medical facilities with us, Base Commander Hilton's been—hovering, that's what Stretcher called it—and it's making it difficult for them to consult on her condition, so the sooner we can get her back to base the better."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"I need you to give me a written report of what happened from your point of view; I got two from the other members of your team, Ranger Ken Ryder and Ranger Shaun Miller, and a handful from the other trainees, but now I need yours. Pending that, however, I have a strong case for preferring four charges against Broadview.

"Four? I was thinking 'assault and battery' and 'reckless endangerment'."

"I spent this morning reading over the Uniform Code of Military Justice and I think we can get him on a couple more. Article 93 of the Code defines and sets specific punishments for 'cruelty and maltreatment of any person subject to a superior officer's orders.' I'd say that adequately describes what happened."

"I didn't even know that was a statute."

"Nether did I until I looked it up. There's no reason for you to know, Hawk, we've never court martialed anyone at Joe base. We've never had to. I want to wait until we get back and consult with Shana and Frank about this, since they're the ones who studied law, and I think I might ask Alex's opinion since she's the only one I know actively practicing law, but it looked reasonable to me. I'm also charging him with Article 128—that's the assault charge you were talking about, and I'm escalating it to assault consummated with battery; Article 133, conduct unbecoming an officer. The only one I'm not sure about, and I have to check with Alex on this one, is General Article 134, which is pretty loosely defined as 'disorders and neglects to the prejudice of good order and discipline in the armed forces and all conduct of a nature to bring discredit upon the armed forces' and 'reckless endangerment' comes under that article. I think we can get them on that one too because if word of this gets out to the press and the public the SERE training's going to get even more bad publicity than it already has after the Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo messes from a few years back. I don't think the Armed Forces particularly want a repeat of that fiasco—nor do they need any more negative publicity about this part of a soldier's education."

"Yes, but…Allie, four charges? Lieutenant General Johnson's going to have to call a court martial then! And another problem—Cam doesn't want to testify."

"You're joking." It was Lady Jaye's turn to look startled. "Doesn't she realize if we don't stop Broadview and Hilton now they'll keep doing this until someone dies? She nearly died this time! She does know they can't retaliate by threatening her career, right?"

"I don't know that her unwillingness stems entirely from not wanting to face Broadview and Hilton, or even about her career. Throughout this whole month she's avoided talking about her past and particularly about how she got all those burn scars that disfigure her body. I think there might be some PTSD in there, and she's avoiding talking about it as a part of that denial phase. When we get back to base I want to talk to Doc—and I think I want to have her talk to Liv, too, Liv's incredibly good with victims and she's gone through PTSD too, after this one horrific case she went through a couple years ago. She went to counseling and she's fine now but maybe getting her to talk to Cam will help."

"So we're going to head home tomorrow morning, and once we're there we'll start the rest of this process. Sounds good to me." Allie sighed as she organized her papers. "I expect I'll be getting your report as soon as we get back?"

"As soon as I can write it," he promised, and he meant it. While usually he hated paperwork and would put it off as long as he could, in this particular case he was going to make time to finish that report.


	5. Chapter 28: Debriefing

**Chapter 28: Debriefing**

"Atten-TION!"

Hawk stared at the assembled complement filling the garage bay. "Is the whole base here?" he asked incredulously.

"We've all been very, very worried about you," Flint said seriously. "Word spread like wildfire that you and your training group were lost down in North Carolina in the middle of that hurricane, and we all saw the news footage of tornados and fallen trees. Anything could have happened to you, and we were glad when Lady Jaye called us and told us they'd found you and you were okay."

"You just didn't want to have to break in a new General," Hawk grumbled, but he felt his face stretching in a grin. Damn, but it was good to be home. "Okay, so now that you've all established that I'm back and I'm all right, back to your posts!" he roared with mock ferocity, and soldiers scattered.

Lifeline and Stretcher hurried Cam off the plane; she'd started running a fever from the infection during the flight back, and Stretcher wanted Doc to see her right away. Spirit followed close behind. Scarlett and Snake Eyes watched curiously as they hurried the gurney down the halls toward the medical labs, then Scarlett turned to Hawk. "Who's that?"

"That is a long story. Can you find Frank and come meet me in the informal briefing room in two hours?"

"Sure." He knew Scarlett was curious. "Any particular reason why you want Frank and I?"

"Because you two passed bar exams and even though you don't practice law I could still use your advice," he said. "We don't have a JAG officer here on base—it was something we never needed before now and no one ever brought it up, so I never thought of it till now. But I'm lodging a complaint against Base Commander Hilton and Colonel Broadview at Camp Mackall for how they handled the SERE-C training program—and one particular SERE trainee in particular." He held up a hand to forestall any more questions. "Just find Frank and meet me in the briefing room in two hours. Flint, Lady Jaye, Wild Bill, you too."

His first stop was the mess hall, where lunch was being prepared but the remains of breakfast had not yet been put away, for those who'd been on overnight duty the night before. Three plates of eggs, potatoes, a generous portion of bacon that made him chuckle as he remembered Cam saying the pig she'd killed was going to taste good—and he retreated to his quarters for a long hot shower and a fresh change of clothes—off-duty olive pants and a khaki shirt—then sauntered down the halls until he got to the informal briefing room.

Lady Jaye had, as he'd suspected, brought the file folder with the testimony she'd gathered from the other SERE trainees and Wild Bill brought his folder with him as well. "All right, let's get started. This is going to be a semi-formal briefing; it's serious but I'm not standing on formal rank here; I want a free discussion because what I'm about to do is going to involve everyone here at some point. Before we get started, let me debrief you on what happened during the SERE training the last few weeks."

And he started talking. He told them about the small class, the fact that the other trainees were all Rangers; told them about Cam and his first impressions of her, about Hilton not knowing she was female until Walker requested assignment to a different team. About Hilton and Broadview's attempt to exclude her from the training even though her commanding officer had recommended her for Ranger School, and he saw empathy on Scarlett and Lady Jaye's faces. Both of them were Ranger-qualified, after all, had taken the same path that Cam had taken. But it hadn't been that hard for them—had it? He looked at Scarlett, and couldn't see her crawling nude and shackled through mud on the end of a dog leash. Or Lady Jaye. And he knew, at last, why Dash always said that he was glad he hadn't known Allie when she took the SERE courses.

He told them about that first week of classroom training; Cam's intelligent answers, her obvious competence and skills at tracking and evasion; his inability to understand why the other trainees couldn't see the same things he did. "Maybe it's the fact that I'm used to looking for those with the best skills, and they aren't," he said finally, reflectively.

"Naw, that ain't it. Not it at all," Wild Bill spoke from where he sat at the briefing table. "They were all just knuckleheads."

Hawk grinned a little but continued. He told them about the first evening, when he'd gone looking for Cam and found her camped out in a tree; about her revelations about her heritage and her past, the delicate little flute that had been broken ( "so that's where that came from, I'd wondered!" Scarlett exclaimed) and how they'd been sentenced to mess hall clean-up for that altercation. He told about her sharing her language with him, a little more of her past unlocked; then told about her being missing from class the next morning, his attempt to find her, her pack thrown in the pond with crap in it (and here he saw Lady Jaye wince) and then about his hurried questions, her tapped responses, and then about getting her out of the footlocker. He couldn't quite keep his voice completely unemotional as he described her screaming, her crying, as circulation returned; told them about carrying her to the infirmary to get checked. How, after that incident his little team had seemed to bond.

He told of her proficiency at finding food, the efficiency with which she'd directed the capture, killing, and preparation of their chickens, the wild ingredients she'd found to add to the meal. Then he told about walking into the classroom at the start of their S&E week, about being told to strip, about seeing the burn scars on Cam's body for the first time. "Burn scars," he told Scarlett, looking at the redhead directly. "Just like Snake Eyes' scars. Some kind of accelerant was used in the fire, and it burned—I think Lifeline said sixty-five percent—" he looked at Lady Jaye, who nodded affirmatively, "Sixty-five percent of her skin. Thing is, she refuses to discuss what happened; she said in class that it was an accident, but then when we were on the G4 on the way here she told us she deserved to get burned."

"Absolutely not." Lady Jaye shook her head, shuddered. "Shana, I saw her. There's no way she deserved that, not at eighteen. She's got scar tissue from her right knee to shoulder, from her left thigh to just under her breast. There's nothing left of her sex, just a hole, and that's it. Jesus, she's still a virgin because the hole left is too small for entry. Thank God Colonel Broadview didn't take it in his head to rape her because he wouldn't have fit." She finished grimly.

"I wonder if he thought about it, and realized he'd never get away with it because it would have been too damn obvious when she tore," Clayton said slowly. "Christ. I don't want to even think about it." He shook his head.

He told them about the S&E week; how Cam had killed the pig using a handmade spear, and they'd enjoyed roast pig and bacon and potatoes. "Ate like a king out in the middle of the woods. Had enough to share with everyone, and they'd suspended the exercise for the day so everyone came." And the rest of the week; and then…hell.

Everyone's faces tightened when he told them about Broadview shoving Cam all over the trail on the way back, about the forced-march pace he'd set. About getting to camp, told to strip and put on prison camp scrubs, about not having shoes for Cam.

"When Broadview took her in intake he used the abdominal slap on her, to a point beyond what anyone would consider excessive. So excessive that he caused internal blood vessel rupture in her lower belly, ruptured her uterine wall, and started internal hemorrhaging. She's standing there, probably crying because her stomach hurts, there's blood running down her legs, and he thinks she's having her period and starts hosing her down with a high-pressure hose."

Flint's eyes narrowed in anger at that. "No. There's no way any sane reasoning person would have believed that she got her period. Not after repeated blows to her stomach. Was there bruising?"

"Because the fire took so much of her skin and subcutaneous fat, she has no blood vessels close to her skin to rupture and show a bruise. And her burn scars are hypopigmented. Stretcher and Lifeline explained it to me." Lady Jaye finished.

"So that's deliberate. He hit her hard enough to create internal hemorrhaging, and when she started bleeding he knew it was because of what he did, but he didn't get her medical attention right away, he just got a high-pressure hose and washed the blood away." Hawk had never seen Flint so angry. "I'm a drill instructor and I'm pretty tough on my soldiers, but even I know when too far is too far and when medical attention is necessary."

Hawk waited for the mutters around the room quieted before going on to tell them about Broadview's PT'ing Cam all afternoon in the heat, dropping her back in the pen semi-conscious. "I remembered seeing Liv look like that when she went hyperthermic in the jungle from drug withdrawal. "Fortunately she wasn't too far gone, and bathing her in water got her temperature down, and then Colonel Potter—the medic over there at Camp Mackall—he took her into the barracks to work on solitary confinement under medical supervision in the air conditioning. She was under medical supervision for the next morning, but then it started to rain and Broadview took her out and PT'd her again. And this time, when he brought her back…" He closed his eyes so they wouldn't see the pain in his eyes, although they could certainly hear it in his voice. "He had a chain dog leash snapped around her neck, and shackles around her wrists and ankles. He'd force-marched her around camp all that afternoon in the rain and the shackles rubbed sores on her ankles and wrists, and she was so exhausted that she could barely move, and she hadn't eaten—she wasn't given food when we were. I never saw her eat anything the four days we were there, and the only water I saw her get was when she was being hosed off by a member of the 82nd while she was hyperthermic. I gave her my canteen of water then too.

"We got very angry, all of us trainees, when we saw her being dragged around by the neck on the end of that damn dog leash. A lot of the guys started shouting at Broadview to leave her alone. That was when he took out a knife, a little dull pocketknife, grabbed a handful of her hair, and hacked it off."

Scarlett looked sick. Her hand came up to her own hair, the end of the long red ponytail hanging over her shoulder, played with a couple strands as Hawk went on. "He cut it completely off and then went for another handful. She was screaming, twisting, trying to get away; the knife wasn't cutting as much as it was sort of ripping the strands out, almost literally scalping her. And he went for another handful, and one of the 82nd stepped forward, told him he'd made his point, stop it, but Broadview told him to shut up and he didn't stop until he'd cut all her hair off. He told two of the other soldiers to get her in her pen, but he didn't release the shackles, and when she moved too slowly for him, he kicked her in her side. Lifeline said he bruised her ribs. One of the 82nd unlocked her shackles then and helped her into her pen, and she curled up against the chain link with the rest of us and I took off my scrub top and gave it to her because it was pouring rain and she hadn't worn any clothing since her second day there.

"The next morning she seemed a little better, and she convinced us to try and get to the airlift site—it was the fourth day, we were allowed to try escape. One of the other trainees said that Broadview and Hilton would bring us in if the storm got any worse, but she told us that while we might be allowed to come in, or at least bunk down in the solitary confinement cells, she was firmly convinced that Broadview would leave her outside in the storm alone. He had told her he would leave her out there alone, and she believed him. And at that point, after what I'd seen Broadview do to her, I was firmly convinced that he was perfectly capable of leaving her out there. And so we made our escape—dug holes in the mud under the fences and ran.

"We tied ourselves together with vines. Cam could still navigate even in the storm, so she went in front and I brought up the rear, and we were moving at a pretty good clip until this huge oak tree in the hillside above us ripped its roots up out of the saturated soil and came down. Cam threw herself down the hill, taking all of us with her and out of the tree's way while it crashed down, but she slipped going down and collided with another tree. At that point I decided it was too dangerous to keep going and we bunked down under that fallen tree, piling more and more branches on until we dried out and got a little warm, and then we just stayed until the hurricane went away. When we got started again that was when Lady Jaye and Spirit found us.

"I'm sorry I created so much worry when we escaped. If I'd been thinking clearly I would have realized that they would bring us in, but even now, looking back, I still harbor a little bit of suspicion that Broadview would have left her alone out there, and in the condition she was in…I would still have made the decision I did."

"You have to remember that Cam hadn't been given shoes, so she was runnin' through the woods with Hawk in bare feet. Her feet were a mess, an' accordin' to Lifeline one foot's infected."

"She tried to cauterize it," Hawk said quietly. "We got a fire going while we were hiding under the fallen tree. She took a burning branch and tried to cauterize it. I can still smell the burned flesh."

Silence for a long moment as everyone absorbed the story. Then Frank sat up, catching everyone's attention. He cleared his throat, then said, "So you wanted your resident law experts to weigh in on the possibility of putting together a court martial?"

"Lady Jaye and wild Bill started the preliminary inquiry; I owe them a report as soon as I have time to write it. But I know Lady Jaye is recommending a court-martial—"

"You bet your ass," Lady Jaye swore—and she never swore.

"And I think there were some procedural things she needed to talk to a law expert about."

"I'm absolutely certain that after reading my report, and the reports of everyone back at Camp Mackall who participated in the training exercise, as well as those members of the 82nd who gave Wild Bill and I their testimony, Lieutenant General Johnson is going to accede to our request to convene a court-martial. We'll be the prosecution, Broadview will be the accused, and the problem with all of this is that we don't have a JAG officer on base to handle the prosecution. Shana has a law degree and a bar license, so she could serve in a pinch, but she's got no JAG courtroom and trial experience."

"But Alex does. And I can consult with her." Scarlett smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile. "Since I can't go and nail that bastard Broadview physically, let's see if I can be a warrior in the courtroom."

"I realize this is going to put all of you at an inconvenience…" Hawk started.

"Stop right there." Flint rose from his seat, looking across the table at Hawk. "There is no such thing as inconvenience when it comes to something this serious. What Ranger Arlington went through is unpardonable and unconscionable and he needs to be called to an accounting, and I for one will be glad that we will be the ones that do it. I love this country, and the army; it's all I ever wanted and dreamed of, but I won't tolerate serving in an army that allows things like this to happen. Let's go after Broadview and show him that there are still people here who remember what honor is, that every subordinate soldier, no matter their gender, is entitled to compassion and consideration from their superior, that good leaders care for everyone under their command, and not just those who they like."

There was nothing Hawk could say to that, so he didn't try. "I'll leave you to get on with it, then. I'm going to have dinner, write that report, and then I'll probably go out and see Liv."

"I'll come with you." Scarlett rose from her chair. "Ettienne drew duty tonight so he can't go, but I want to check with Alex and see what we can legally charge Broadview and Hilton with. Let me go see if I can figure out where our copy of the Uniform Code of Military Justice is. And the Manual for Courts-Martial."


	6. Chapter 29: Home

**Chapter 29: Home **

"Oh my God you're _huge_!" was Clayton's first comment as Olivia opened the apartment door.

There was a burst of laughter from inside the apartment, mirrored by another burst of laughter from Shana, right behind him. Olivia stood there looking at him sternly, hands on her hips, but her eyes laughed at him. "That's a nice thing to say to a woman the minute you see her."

"I'm sorry. Um." He floundered helplessly, unable to take his eyes off the expanding bump that had been Olivia's flat, toned belly. "Holy cow. Isn't that uncomfortable?"

Shana placed a hand in the middle of his back, shoved him forward; she was laughing so hard she couldn't speak. Olivia was chuckling as she stepped back to let Clayton and Shana into the apartment she shared with Olivia, and closed the door behind them.

Alex was stretched out on the couch wearing a loose skirt, and she was holding her middle as she laughed. Her obvious mirth infected Shana, then Olivia, and Clayton stood in the middle of the apartment, doing his level best to look calm and dignified as three women laughed themselves silly around him.

"Okay. Oh. I haven't laughed like that in a while." Olivia groaned as she wiped her tearing eyes. "Jesus, Clayton, you really know how to make a woman feel good."

"I'm sorry," he said. "But you just—took me by surprise. I've been sort of busy the last few weeks and I just got used to thinking of you like I remembered you; it didn't even occur to me that your body would have changed." He stared, fascinated, at the protruding bump. "How are you doing? Are you keeping up with the doctor's visits? Are you taking it easy at work?" he looked at her narrowly. "Did you tell Captain Cragen you were pregnant?"

"If I hadn't yet he would have figured it out by now. It would have become rather obvious," Olivia said dryly as she got up from one of the easy chairs in her living room. "And yes, I am keeping up with the doctors' visits. Come here, I want to show you something."

He followed her down the hall to her bedroom, where she reached for a tiny photo album on her dresser and opened it. He stared fascinated at the grainy black and white sonogram picture. "Wow. Is that…is that the baby?"

"Yes. I got this done two days ago. These are the first pictures I have of my child." _Our child,_ he wanted to correct her, but he bit his tongue. He'd made a promise, and he would stick with it, since it didn't seem to bother her.

He'd never seen one of these before, but even grainy and in black and white, he could see the outline of a head and one arm. "There's the head. And an arm."

"Yes." And, softly, she said, "Clayton. The doctor told me I'm having a boy."

His heart skipped a beat as a mental image of a little boy with Olivia's brown hair and his own blue eyes flashed through his mind. _A son. I'm going to have a son!_ He clamped down on that elation hard; his determination to be there only peripherally seemed to be fine with her, and he didn't want to upset her by suddenly demanding more than what she wanted to give. He put the picture down on the dresser carefully, giving it one last look, then turned and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her fiercely for long moments. She relaxed into his embrace happily.

"I'm glad he's healthy and doing fine. And you're doing fine too." He felt her ribs expand as she took a breath to say something, and he was suddenly afraid she was going to ask him if he'd changed his mind about sharing the baby with her. He crushed his lips to hers, trying to forestall the question because he wasn't entirely sure he could keep holding to his story with a straight face. _A son. His son._ Before he'd heard that the baby had been an intangible, nebulous idea, but seeing her suddenly inflated stomach—and the picture—suddenly made it real for him. And he was afraid of what he'd say, and how much it might hurt her if he suddenly went back on his hands-off agreement.

Her lips parted under his tentatively, and hunger woke in him. It had been a month since he'd seen her, held her, made love to her, and he suddenly wanted her so fiercely his body ached…and judging from her reaction, she wanted it, wanted him, just as much, and he kicked his sneakers off as he lay down in bed next to her, running a hand caressingly over the bump in her middle before capturing her mouth in his again…

Out in the living room, Alex tilted her head, listened for a moment, then sighed. "They won't be out anytime soon," she said cheerfully, and Shana grinned a little even as she grimaced. Alex laughed at her expression. "I know, I know. He's your commanding officer, and it's hard thinking of him in that way."

Shana nodded. "I just…fine, it's kind of like thinking about how your parents got you. You know the stork didn't drop you off but at the same time you sort of don't really want to think about…what was involved." She sighed as she put down the backpack she'd brought with her. "But while they're—occupied, I had some questions I wanted to ask you—I need some advice. You know Clayton went to a training exercise at Camp Mackall in North Carolina, right?"

"Yeah. SERE training. What happened?"

"Well, a lot. Here. I'll let you read Clayton's report." Shana relaxed into the couch as Alex leaned forward, grabbed a pair of dark-rimmed glasses from the coffee table, and started to read.

It was hard to tell what Alex was thinking while she read the report; her face could be as impassive as Shana's own while in battle mode. It was only as she finished reading and looked up that Shana saw the icy anger frozen in Alex's blue eyes. "Sounds like he had to watch this officer go through hell. Can't you file a report with some military court somewhere and press charges against this Colonel Broadview?"

"Well, that's what this report is for. And Lady Jaye got testimony not only from the other Rangers who attended this training with Hawk and Cam, but also some of the soldiers who are stationed there and helped to administer the training."

"You mean torture the trainees." Alex's blue eyes were glacial.

"No. It's training. Alex, despite what the popular media has written about the SERE courses and the controversy surrounding them, they do serve a valid function and they are a necessary part of a soldier's training. All of us at base had to go through it, Clayton, Ettienne, Allie, even me. Although I will say none of us went through anything close to what Cam did at this session, but that's not her fault, that's the fault of the unethical little bastard who let his personal dislike for her seep into his work."

Alex sighed. "I'm not going to argue with you on this. What I do want to know is why do you need my advice?"

"I'm having a hard time figuring out what to charge Broadview with. Allie picked out several articles from the UCMJ, the Uniform Code of Military Justice, but I'm not sure about some of them and I could use some advice."

"Shana, I don't know much about military law—"

"But you do know how to prosecute a case, and that's what I need help with. Military courts-martial aren't that much different from regular court proceedings." Shana reached into her backpack again. "I brought our base copy of the Manual for Courts Martial—MCM—and the UCMJ with me."

Alex stared as two huge books thumped down on the coffee table in front of her. "Isn't there something called a JAG office that handles things like this?"

"Technically, each base, each separate command, should have a JAG officer to advise the commander and assist the individual soldier with common legal matters. Problem is, we don't have one—we never needed one before, Clayton's never had to court-martial anyone. In our entire history at the Staten Island base, Clayton's never had to court-martial anyone. Until now."

"But this didn't happen on base."

"No, it didn't, but military rules say that the person who accuses another of wrongdoing has to convene the court-martial. So after Hawk gets us to submit the preliminary inquiry and the list of charges to Lieutenant General Johnson, we have to convene the court martial."

"Wait. The accuser gets to call a court martial? Isn't that unfairly prejudicial to the whole legal process?"

Shana shrugged. "That's the way it is. I can't change it so I'm not going to argue."

Alex sighed. "Well, I have been bored with district court work. This will be a bit of a change. So where are you in the process right now?"

"I'm putting together the supporting documents to forward with the preliminary inquiry. I just don't know what to charge Broadview with."

"What are your options?"

Shana grabbed the UCMJ and plunked it down in Alex's lap. "See those little colored flags sticking out the side there? Allie and I marked them for you so you could read the statutes and let us know if this is something we can charge Broadview with."

"All right. Let me look." Alex reached into a briefcase sitting next to the couch and took out a legal pad and a pen, then settled into the couch to read and occasionally scribble notes.

Silence reigned in the apartment for a while, broken only by the faint, muffled sounds coming from the bedrooms that Shana was trying so very, very hard not to hear and pay attention to. To distract herself, she settled into the opposite end of the couch to read the Manual for Courts-Martial, the MCM, familiarizing herself with the procedure for a court-martial. It was Alex who finally broke the silence, leaning forward. "Based on what I read, I think you have grounds for more than five charges here."

"Really?" Shana frowned as she looked at the paperwork.

"Yes. Look. You have Article 93, cruelty and maltreatment, Article 128, assault consummated by battery, Article 133, conduct unbecoming an officer, and Article 134, reckless endangerment. I haven't see her medical file, so I don't know how extensive the physical damage is, but depending on how bad it is—I assume you've seen it—I think Article 124 on maiming could apply too."

"But he didn't scar or disfigure her—"

"Look at the text on the maiming statute. "Any person subject to this chapter who, with intent to injure, disfigure, or disable, inflicts upon the person of another an injury which seriously diminishes his physical vigor by the injury of any member or organ, is guilty of maiming and shall be punished as a court-martial may direct.' So if you look at that…Broadview, when he started hitting her in the abdomen, meant to hurt her and cause her pain. That is, if I get the purpose right, the intent of the SERE training, to teach the soldiers how to withstand and handle pain and possible interrogation?" Shana nodded. "And Clayton's testimony shows a distinct pattern of physical deterioration from that time until they were rescued from the North Carolina woods by Lady Jaye and her team. So you could argue that the injury she sustained did in fact 'seriously diminish her physical vigor'."

"I didn't think of that. Can you make note of that and give it to me for Allie?"

"Sure. And I'm not done yet. I see the charges you're bringing against Broadview—preferring, I think is the term you military types use—you're preferring charges against Broadview but I don't see any against Hilton. And there should be charges since, as a commanding officer, he's responsible for the actions of the people under him, right? So if Broadview did something wrong—and he clearly did—then Hilton has to be culpable, at least by simple virtue of turning a blind eye and refusing to see what his subordinate was doing. Now, if we can prove that he did know that Broadview had seriously hurt Ranger Arlington, then he becomes an accessory." She flipped through the punitive article section again. 'Here it is. Article 78, accessory after the fact. 'Any person subject to this chapter who, knowing that an offense punishable by this chapter has been committed, receives, comforts, or assists the offender in order to hinder or prevent his apprehension, trial, or punishment shall be punished as a court-martial may direct.' And the clause under it states that it applies if 'the accused did so for the purpose of hindering or preventing the apprehension, trial, or punishment of the offender'."

"I don't see how…"

"Hilton ordered Lady Jaye not to take off and go find Hawk. If Lieutenant General Johnson hadn't already given orders that superseded his, she wouldn't have been able to find Hawk, and who knows what would have happened after that?"

"It's a bit of a stretch, but you're right about going after Hilton. I hadn't even thought about that." Shana dog-eared the page with Article 78 on it. "And actually I think we have something else we can get him for. General Article 134 has a clause for misprision of serious offense."

"I saw that but I didn't know what misprision is."

"Here." Shana flipped to the page, read it aloud. "'That the accused knew that said person had committed a serious offense, that thereafter the accused concealed the serious offense and failed to make it known to civilian and military authorities as soon as possible; that the concealing was wrongful and that, under the circumstances, the conduct of the accused was to the prejudice of good order and discipline in the armed forces or was of a nature to bring discredit upon the armed forces'. I think that pretty much describes what Hilton did. When he saw what Broadview did—when he saw Cam almost die from hyperthermia because of Broadview's maltreatment and reckless endangerment—he didn't stop the exercises, didn't pull Broadview out, didn't notify anyone. Just kept going like nothing happened."

"I'd say that describes it, definitely. Is there anything in here that details what the penalties are for violations of these particular statutes?"

"I thought you'd ask that. See that green flag in there? That's the section that has penalties." Shana flicked a little green flag with one finger. And the purple tab back here has an appendix to the statutes that lists maximum penalties for each offense."

Alex flipped the manual open to the green flag and started reading. "Suspension of duty. Forfeiture of pay. Restriction of movement…wait a minute," she said, sitting forward, her feet hitting the floor with a thump. "You can confine people in their quarters on bread and water?" She stared at Shana in disbelief. "You gotta be kidding. Isn't that cruel and unusual punishment?"

"Alex, you have to remember that most of these rules and penalties were created for people who were on board a ship. There's not a lot of things you can do to punish someone on a ship."

"But…bread and water?" Alex still looked incredulous.

"Hey, flip to the rear appendices and look up the maximum punishments under that purple flag. See what we do to soldiers who rape children."

Alex flipped to the appendix, looked. "Wow. You put them to death?"

"They deserve it." Shana said, her voice hard. "Alex, you prosecute the bastards. There have to have been a few over the years who you wanted to stick a needle into yourself."

"Yes, there have." Alex put the manual down, took her glasses off. "Shana, I know I'm not military anymore, but please feel free to come to me if you want help with this one. I'd love to help you get this SOB. In fact, I'd like to meet Arlington. She sounds like she's an incredibly gutsy young woman."

"Keep that thought in mind, Alex, because I just might have to have you talk to her. She doesn't want to testify. Hawk thinks it has less to do with what happened, although that's part of it, and rather more to do with the physical condition that made her hyperthermic. She's been burned over sixty-five percent of her body and Allie says she's just…there's nothing left between her legs."

"Worse than me?"

"Worse than you when you came in, Alex." Scarlett's emerald eyes turned dark and haunted with the memory of what Alex had looked like when she'd come in with Flint's tram from the Congolese jungle, comatose and near death from three days of unimaginable sexual torture. "Alex, she's still a virgin because the scar tissue left between her legs closed her body up to the point where she can't even have sex. Lifeline said he wants to do some more soft tissue scans but he's not certain she can even feel pleasure."

"Oh God. No wonder she doesn't even want to talk about it. Don't rush her, and don't force her. Trauma like that isn't easy to get over."


	7. Chapter 30: Diagnosis

**Chapter 30: Diagnosis**

Hawk strode down the halls toward his office the next day, smiling at the thought of all the paperwork sitting on his desk waiting for him. It wasn't that the paperwork made him smile, it as the thought of just returning to routine, to the ordinariness of life here at his base with his people. And he blessed the good fortune that had given him a command with people who were not only good soldiers but personal friends.

He rounded a corner and saw Shana in the gym with a handful of new recruits. And to his complete surprise, he recognized one of them.

Walker.

His next thought was _damn, Scarlett's really trying to make an impression on him._ She was on the mat, facing him, unarmed, wearing full battle armor (regulation battle armor, not the ultra-light, specially designed suits that she and Snake Eyes would wear in an actual combat situation) and challenging him to charge her. Which he was doing, figuring that the armor would slow her down—and of course, she was a woman.

Not that either her equipment or her gender was hampering Scarlett.

Hawk watched, hiding a smile, as Walker charged her again—and Scarlett ducked past his charge and slipped under his arm as easily as if she weren't wearing armor at all. He, unfazed, turned and lunged at her again—same result.

"_Think_, Walker!" Scarlett demanded of him, her green eyes snapping sparks. "_Think_ about what you're doing, _think_ about your target, anticipate your opponent's moves!"

Hawk saw the anger on Walker's face the moment before he charged.

Scarlett ducked under him again, this time straight-arming him so that her arm struck him across his back as he went past. From where he stood Hawk _heard_ the impact of her armored arm on his back, and winced but didn't interfere as Walker went sprawling forward. She wasn't going to leave more than a light bruise, but the simple act of being able to score a hit on the recruit was going to hit Walker's ego.

Scarlett turned her back to him as he lay there and addressed the recruit class; six guys, two women. "Don't just assume that because your opponent is female that automatically means she's weaker and not as fast. True, we may not have as much muscle mass as a male does, but we have them in different places that help us move in different ways than a guy, so you have to factor that in—"

Hawk saw Walker's intention a second before he actually moved; even as one of the recruits Scarlett was talking to cried out a warning to look behind her, Walker was up off the mat and racing for Scarlett, his body movement showing that he was aiming low for a football-style lower body tackle.

Scarlett wasn't there when he got there.

She launched herself airborne, twisting sideways and out of the way before coming back down on the mat, landing lightly on both feet behind him, and at the same time she delivered a kick to his upper thigh. Not excessively hard, but he was going to carry that bruise for a couple of days longer than the bruise on his back from the straight-arm move she'd performed a few minutes earlier. "Are you done now?" she asked him—and Hawk could hear the edge of anger in her voice although her face showed nothing.

Walker picked his head up off the mat, and Hawk rolled his eyes. He had put all of his body into that tackle, including his face, and his nose was bleeding down his chin. _Idiot,_ he thought to himself. _Frickin' idiot. How the hell did he get past basic training with that attitude?_

Scarlett took off her helmet. "Up, recruit."

Walker glared at her and didn't move.

"Recruit. I said get up."

He moved just fast enough to be complying with her order but slow enough to make it an insult. Hawk saw indecision in Scarlett's eyes for a moment as she debated whether to call him on it, and she apparently decided to go easy on him as he finally stood completely up. "Go take care of that nose, Recruit Walker. And when you're done you can come back out here with cleaning supplies and clean that bloody nose of yours off the mat. While you're doing that I want you to think about what you could have done differently and how your attitude is affecting your training." She turned to the other recruits and spoke to them. "Five laps around the gym, then session's adjourned for the day. Think about what you've seen here and what lessons can be learned from this demonstration." The other eight recruits saluted her and hurried off to begin their laps.

Scarlett turned and headed toward the door; Hawk stood back and waited for her to reach him. Just before her left foot came off the mat he saw Walker spit on the mat behind her.

Scarlett's face went still; he'd just royally pissed her off. She started to turn, to address the outright disrespect he was displaying, when a silent black shadow tackled Walker, the same movement that Walker had intended to pull on Scarlett earlier, planted him face-down on the mat just inches from the glob of spit, and held him there. Walker stared in consternation; he hadn't even seen Snake Eyes enter the gym from the dojo off to one side, and obviously hadn't expected to be reprimanded this quickly or this thoroughly.

Scarlett had full control of her temper by the time she'd turned fully around; maybe seeing Snake Eyes crouched over Walker with a knee pressed into the back of the recruit's neck had something to do with it. At any rate, she nodded slightly to Snake Eyes, who let Walker up, then told him coolly, "And while you're scrubbing your bloody nose off my mat, you can get that spit up off it too. And when the others are done their laps you can sweep and mop the gym." She turned on her heel and stalked away; Walker looked like he wanted to spit in her direction again, but with Snake Eyes hovering, an intimidating, silent shadow behind Walker's elbow, he decided against it and headed for the supply closet to get the cleaning supplies.

"Having fun?" Hawk asked as Scarlett and Snake Eyes joined him in the hallway outside the gym.

"No." Scarlett said bluntly. "Hawk, half the fun of teaching these bullheaded guys that a woman is, and can be, just as good as they are if not better, is watching them finally 'get it'. Walker—he's been here a couple weeks and he still doesn't 'get it'. I don't know if he ever will. He simply doesn't respect women, and what you just saw—that's pretty much how he's acted around Lady Jaye and I whenever we've come into contact with him. She's teaching one of his classes on intelligence gathering and she says he's bored, inattentive, mouthy—just short of being disrespectful. That's the first time he's ever spit at me and showed open disrespect in the gym, and I will give him exactly one more class to try and fix his attitude before I give him a lesson on the point of my sword." Snake Eyes' hands flashed, signing, and she watched him for a moment then translated. "He's not acting like that in Snake Eyes' class, or around the guys, like Sergeant Slaughter and Duke and Flint. Around them he's the perfect soldier. It's only around us that he's openly disrespectful and rude."

A shout from the gym attracted their attention, and the three Joes turned. Walker had come out of the utility closet with a bucket and mop, and ran into one of the other recruits—who just happened to be female—and somehow the bucket of hot soapy water had gotten spilled all over her PT uniform. She stood there soaking wet and dripping, and one of the other male recruits had shouted at him.

Hawk, Scarlett, and Snake Eyes strode across the gym, and now Hawk could see anger on Scarlett's face, and in the set of Snake Eyes' shoulders. "Walker!" Hawk shouted, and at his approach all of the recruits snapped to attention. "I would have thought that after having to scrub crap out of Arlington's clothes you'd have enough of cleaning duties, but apparently not. So you can spend your free time this weekend doing laundry." He turned to the wet female recruit. "Dismissed. Go and change, recruit."

"Yes sir," the woman saluted smartly and hurried toward the women's locker rooms, leaving a trail of water droplets behind her. Hawk turned without a further word and headed for the hall. Once they were all out of earshot of the gym, he turned to Scarlett and Snake Eyes.

"Honestly. Do you think he's a good soldier?"

Snake Eyes' hands flashed, a single, emphatically negative gesture. _No_.

Scarlett sighed. "He's a good soldier only as long as he's around guys. He flat out does not like and respect women, and I can't help but wonder why, and what happened to make him like that. I don't know if he's reacting to the fact that we're higher in rank than he is and he just doesn't like that, or if he's reacting to our gender. Lady Jaye and I are planning on getting him to clean the garage when Cover Girl gets back from her mobile armor refresher course just to see how he reacts around a woman who isn't in charge of him, see how he reacts to her. I'm waiting to see that before I decide how to advise you."

Hawk sighed. "Fair enough. Can you do me another favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you and Lady Jaye talk Cam Arlington into testifying at the court martial?"

Scarlett laughed. "We can give it a shot, yeah. Once we reason with her I think she'll be okay. I was planning on talking to her and Allie once I wrapped up this morning's session, so as soon as I get out of this getup," she hefted the helmet she'd tucked under her arm, "I'll go do that."

"Thanks, Scarlett." And Hawk continued on his way to his office, grinning.

He spent the rest of the morning working on paperwork; there was a considerable amount of it sitting there waiting for his attention and he dove in happily, relishing the simplicity of filling in blanks. His newfound enthusiasm for paperwork didn't last long, however; it never did after he came back from the few occasions he was off base for more than a couple of days. By the time he was a third through the pile, his patience was wearing thin. By the time he was halfway through, he'd decided that he needed a break and got up.

Everything seemed in order as he wandered around the base; he stuck his head into the R&R room, watched a fairly-equal arm wrestling match between Ettienne and Frank, then headed for the infirmary to see how Cam was doing.

He walked in on chaos.

Allie and Shana were there; they must have decided the informal approach would work better because they were in off-duty casual clothes; jeans and t-shirts. What Hawk didn't expect to see was Cam curled up in a corner of the room, legs tangled in the sheet around her middle, her brown eyes wide, glazed and unfocused. He recognized that look; he'd seen it before, at Camp Mackall when she'd made that cryptic comment about needing to be perfect or they would win. "Allie—" he started, but Allie waved a hand to hush him, peremptorily, and he hushed.

"Cam." Lady Jaye's voice was at once persuasive, coaxing, and firm. Hawk had never heard her talk like that before. "Cam, what do you see? Tell me what you see."

"Uncle…uncle, please…" the voice didn't sound like Cam, at least not completely; she sounded like child, her voice high-pitched and somehow lonely and lost. "Please don't, please…"

"Ranger Arlington." Scarlett spoke firmly. "Ranger, you're having a flashback. It's not real. It's over. Wake up, Ranger."

"N-n-no…please…" Cam was curled up so tight Hawk's own muscles ached. "No, he's coming for me…please don't, no more, please…"

Scarlett spoke, and she used her command tone. "Ranger Arlington. You're having a flashback. Whatever it is, it is over. You are currently on a top-secret classified military base and you are among friends. No one is going to hurt you. You're sitting on the floor of our infirmary; feel it under you." Cam's hand came out to rest on the cold tile under her.

And some of the tension left her shoulders.

"Breathe. Stop panicking. You're among friends. Breathe." Lady Jaye was crouched on the floor, her voice low and soothing now, in contrast to Scarlett's firm, authoritative tone. "All right. In, out. Good. Breathe."

Cam relaxed another fraction.

Lady Jaye reached out, put her hands on Cam's upper arms. "This is me, Cam. Can you feel me? Can you feel my hands on you?"

"Yes…" the whisper didn't sound quite as…young.

Lady Jaye scooted over beside Cam, wrapped her arms around the younger woman's shoulders in a comforting, maternal sort of gesture. "Feel me holding you, Cam. Listen to the sound of my voice. Listen to the quiet of the infirmary. Whatever happened to you, Cam, it's over. It's been over, for some time now. You survived it; you're now a Ranger in the US Army, and your service record says you're a damn good one too. General Hawk says he has complete faith in your abilities as a soldier, and he doesn't praise people lightly, so be proud of that."

He saw it—and it was the strangest thing in the world, to see Cam suddenly snap from the little lost child to the self-assured, confident soldier he recognized. Her back straightened, her spine uncurled, her legs untangled. She blinked twice, hard, and the glazed, unfocused look in her eyes was gone. "Cam?" he finally dared to speak.

"Yes Sir." She started to untangle the sheets from her legs, but somehow they weren't working, she was moving like she didn't have any feeling in them.

"Doc. Let's get her back on the bed." Lady Jaye spoke authoritatively. "Shana. Take Clayton out into the hall and explain what just happened."

Clayton followed Shana out into the hall, closing the door behind him, then turned—and saw Shana leaning against the wall, eyes closed, blowing out her breath in controlled bursts. "Shana?"

A couple more breaths, and the redhead opened her eyes. "Yeah. I'm okay. Jesus, that was intense." She folded her arms. "Cam's got some serious emotional baggage."

"I knew that." And he couldn't restrain his curiosity anymore. "Shana…what happened?"

"You know what her body looks like." It was a statement, not a question, but he nodded affirmatively anyway. "Well, the opening left is too small to permit her to even have her period without horrific cramping and pain, so Doc said he was going to perform a very minor surgery, just to slit some of the scar tissue and…enlarge the opening…to allow her body to drain naturally like it's supposed to. She said okay, and he gave her a local to numb the area, and started trying to cut the scar tissue. And she just...she had a flashback, you saw it, something that happened when she was young—you heard her voice, she totally regressed."

"Yes. Something about her uncle. She grew up on Osan Air Force Base in Korea, where her father was stationed; he died in a plane crash, and she was sent to live here in New York with some relatives of her mother's; her aunt and uncle. Until she was eighteen. Then there was a fire, and her aunt and uncle died, and that was when she went to live on the reservation with her father's people." Hawk had to dig into his memory for all the little pieces of her past that he'd found over the last month.

"I will need to talk to her when she calms down and Doc's done what he needs to, but I would wager—" She broke off as Doc came through the door, followed by Allie. "Are you done already?"

"I couldn't do it. It's going to be a bit more complicated than just cutting through a layer of scar tissue." Doc said grimly. "When Lifeline first examined her, he thought she was a virgin because of the obstructive tissue. Now we know it isn't—she has another layer of scar tissue deep inside her body, and she shows signs of scarring from vaginal abrasions."

"What the hell does that mean? Has she been raped?" Clayton didn't mean to sound confrontational, but this was too much—he had a bad feeling he knew how this was going to go. "I asked her once, if she'd ever been raped—she said she didn't want to discuss it."

"'Rape' is not the word I'd use. She's got all the indicators of having been a victim of extensive sexual abuse. She was forced so many times that she has massive internal scarring. And the original rape happened so long ago—I would have to say she was probably in her mid teens when her hymenal membrane was torn through." Allie and Shana both gasped; Hawk closed his eyes at the thought of what that must have been like for Cam. "'Rape' doesn't even begin to describe what happened to her."


	8. Chapter 31: Past

**Chapter 31: Past**

"Hey."

Cam blinked sleepily, then frowned as she saw Clayton sitting on one side of her bed, Shana on the other, both of them in civilian clothing. "Good morning. Or is it afternoon?"

"Both, actually. It's late morning or early afternoon, depending on how you want to put it." Clayton shook his head. "Cam, I don't know how to say this gently, so I'm going to come straight out and not beat around the bush. We saw your flashback yesterday afternoon."

"Yesterday?" Cam sat straight up in bed, winced, put a hand on her lower belly, where she still had stitches from the emergency surgery. "I slept the whole day?"

"Yes, you did, but Doc said you should. That's not the point. We saw your flashback. You begged your uncle not to hurt you. And when Doc examined you closely, he says…he says you've been forcibly sexually active." He wasn't going to pull any punches on this one. Maybe if he treated it with clinical detachment it wouldn't hit her so hard.

"So you know." Her voice was flat, and her face had acquired that impassive, marble-smoothness he'd come to associate with her hiding deep emotions. Beside him, Shana sat forward, studying Cam intently, frowning slightly.

"We don't know everything. I'm hoping that you trust me, trust us, enough to kind of fill in some of the blanks, so we can help you. You've kept this in for far too long, hidden it much too deeply, and Jesus, Cam, but not talking about it, avoiding it, isn't helping you recover emotionally from this. I'm going to tell you what Doc's figured out from examining you, and if there's anything I have wrong or anything you'd like us to know, please tell me, okay?"

She stared down at her hands, then nervously reached over to the table by her bed and picked up a familiar long white cardboard box, took the thin little cedar flute blank from it. She turned it over and over in her hands, then finally said in a flat, dead voice, "All right."

"You were raped. A long time ago, in your teens. And you couldn't escape. You've suffered some permanent damage to your body, Doc says it's from being forced multiple times, some form of sexual slavery. He said rape doesn't even begin to describe what was done to you."

Silence for long moments; Shana was silent, Clayton didn't speak. The only sound was the click of her fingernails against the side of the uncarved cedar flute. Then she said, still in that emotionless, flat voice, "Those relatives of my mother's that they found in New York, my aunt and uncle. They were Korean, and they didn't like my father, that he was Iroquois, the fact that I was a half-breed-mixed-race bastard. They called me that constantly. I tried not to let it bother me, tried to ignore it, and as long as I could dance I didn't…I didn't care. When I dance I can forget everything else in the world exists, and it's just me and the music and it's heaven, it's perfect. Everything makes sense." She shook her head."I can't explain it. It's…just true happiness."

Clayton felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Because when he spent the night at Liv's apartment, when he woke up in the morning to see her sleeping in bed next to him, he'd felt the same way; like everything was perfect, that the world made sense. _She's truly happy when she's dancing. I can see it, it just pours off her like rays of sunshine. If that's what I feel when I'm with Liv…_

But Cam was talking and he forced himself to listen to her. "Bu then they said that they couldn't afford to take me to rehearsals, classes, lessons, auditions, performances. Little by little I started to not spend so much time at the studio because I couldn't. I had to hurry home, I had chores, I couldn't say and practice, and there was no space in the apartment where I could warm up, stretch, move. And so I started missing more and more of life at the studio; I had to miss auditions for parts for performances, rehearsals, more and more. I was still dedicated, but I couldn't—I just didn't seem to have the time anymore. And the more time I spent at home, the more my aunt—she started saying nasty things, then she said I was being disrespectful and she hit me, and then it just…I look back on it now and it was outright abuse, but at the time…I didn't know what I did to make them hate me, and I wanted to try and get back on their good side, to please them so they would let me dance.

"There was a children's playground in the back of the apartment buildings we lived in, and there was a small stand of trees, and this one really huge tree had a treehouse in it. None of the other kids used it, it was too much effort to climb the trunk, but Papa taught me how to climb trees and find comfortable branches, and so the treehouse was my place. I felt really close to Papa when I was there, I kept my diary up there in a hole in the trunk, in a plastic zip-lock baggie because I was afraid my Aunt and Uncle would find it and read it and I'd get in trouble because I said some…not nice things in it. Then one afternoon, I was fifteen, and I climbed the tree to get into the treehouse—and it collapsed, the floor fell out and I hit the ground under the tree and broke my left ankle and right thigh. It hurt…" her voice broke, and she took a deep breath to steady herself, although he saw tears start to track down her face. "Oh God, it hurt, not just the break, but I was terrified at that moment that I'd never dance again, feet and legs are serious things for a dancer. I was screaming, and someone heard me, and they called an ambulance, and I went to the hospital and when I woke up both my legs were in casts.

"I spent a couple months in bed. I was so depressed…and my Aunt and Uncle seemed like they were sympathetic, but I could tell they didn't really care…and then one night my uncle came into my room." She closed her eyes.

"That was the first time he raped me. I screamed for my aunt to help, but he stuffed a washcloth in my mouth. I couldn't get away with my legs in casts, and I was sure she knew what was happening but she never came. The next morning when she came in she saw the blood on the sheets, but she just cleaned it up and never said a word. He came to my room every night for a month." Her face twisted into a grimace of anger, the first emotion he'd seen from her since she'd started talking. "When I could hobble around the house again, I went downstairs and sneaked one of the kitchen knives from the drawer and took it upstairs, I thought if I threatened him with it when he came he would have to leave me alone. And I did, but he just…laughed…and he grabbed it from me, and he cut my nightgown off me and he cut my breast, real deep, right here."

She traced a line over the right side of her chest. "You can't see the scar now, it went when my skin burned. But he cut me with it, and then he left, and he had belts when he came back; he used the belts to secure my wrists to the bedposts, stuffed my mouth with a towel, and then he hit me, all over, with the third belt. It took almost three weeks for the bruises to go away."

_Jesus._ Hawk and Shana were silent.

"I told myself as soon as I could go back to school I'd tell someone what they were doing, what was happening, and I was scared of going into foster care but I just couldn't bear staying with them anymore. But I think they knew what I was thinking, what I was planning, because the day the doctor took the casts off my legs and told me I could go to school again—that was the last time I saw New York city, and the apartment there. My aunt was driving, and she pulled over, and I started to fight when my uncle got in the back with me but he was too strong, and I was still weak—I had lost a lot of the muscle in my legs while they were healing from the break. I smelled something sticky and disgusting, and everything swam and went black, and when I woke up I was somewhere I'd never seen before—I didn't know until much later that they'd taken me upstate, to a mountain cabin in western New York that a friend of theirs owned.

"I woke up in a basement. Concrete. With a bed. The light bulb was recessed in the ceiling, and it was out of my reach—God knows I tried to reach that light, so many times, over the next three years, as my Uncle brought first his friend, the one who owned the cabin—and then more, and more, and each one of them…" She was crying now.

Shana got up out of her chair, sat down on the edge of the bed next to Cam, and wrapped an arm around the younger woman's shoulders. And Cam let go, sinking into her arms, crying and crying, the pent-up emotion of years coming out all at once. Hawk sat silently, unable to think of a single thing to say. 'I'm sorry?' Empty words, empty gestures. Nothing was going to make it all right for Cam, she'd have to carry around the memories of her nightmarish ordeal for the rest of her life.

But she got herself under control in far less time than he would have thought, sniffed, wiped her eyes. "It seemed like an eternity. The pictures were the worst. They'd put a hood over my head while they were taking pictures of each other hurting me, and there were times when I was glad for it because I didn't want to think about my face and what I looked like, but with the hood on I couldn't see what they were going to do next, and things just hurt so much more when I couldn't see, couldn't anticipate.

"I fought for a long while, but they wore me down. I had to be perfect. I had to be absolutely perfect, do exactly what they wanted whenever they wanted, or my uncle would punish me. The rapes, after a while, were the easiest to bear of anything they did; I got used to that. The other stuff…they tried not to do anything that would scar my body, I guess because whoever they gave those pictures to wouldn't like scars. But there are ways to punish someone that doesn't leave marks; standing in a corner for long periods of time, tying me for so long in cramped positions until my feet and hands turned blue and I'd be screaming when they let me out, stuff like that." She looked at Hawk for the first time since she'd started talking, and they were both thinking the same thing; Walker, and him locking her in the footlocker at Camp Mackall. Hawk gritted his teeth.

"Toward the end of what I now knew was three years, I'd become a docile robot. I did what they wanted me to do, said what they told me to say. I stopped fighting them, stopped fighting the people they brought, became perfect. I had to—if I did what they wanted me to do they'd finish quickly and leave me alone. During most of those three years I stretched whenever I had the chance, used the bed rails to hang onto to do my exercises, regain my flexibility, get back the muscle in my legs and feet. I knew my dancing career was gone—I'd been out of class too long, lost too much time. But when I worked on my exercises, I could close my eyes and pretend that I wasn't locked in a basement somewhere, was in a studio, and for just a moment I could forget where I was and what was happening to me.

"My uncle found out, but instead of being upset, he was pleased that I was keeping myself in shape; it looked good for the pictures, he said. He locked up the basement closets, cleared out my bed, and had workmen come downstairs to install a barre along one wall. While the workmen were doing that, I was allowed upstairs, and that was when I found out where I was, that we were in a mountain cabin. I saw a calendar on the wall, and knew I'd been down there for three years. And I saw a garage with a gas can.

"It was a long time later before I was allowed upstairs again, and this was after there'd been an unusually rainy month and my basement flooded. Uncle had to call workmen in to waterproof the basement, and he took everything out, and my bed was taken upstairs to the attic for the two days they were going to be there. That first day I was watched; there was never a minute when I was alone, but they snapped a handcuff around my ankle and chained me to the bed when they went to sleep in their room below, that night; I guess I'd been so quiet they thought I'd stopped fighting and just accepted my life.

"I slipped my foot out of the handcuff—they didn't close it right, it was never designed for a dancer with straight ankles, and I was desperate. This was likely going to be my only chance, and I didn't want to waste it. I went down to the garage, got that gas can, poured it all over the first floor of the house, up the stairs to the hall outside my aunt and uncle's room. Then I went back downstairs and got a packet of matches.

"I woke them up. I threw open the door and screamed at them, and then I lit the match and threw it out in the hall. The flames spread, all over. They were screaming, they were trying to get out, and I stood in the door and I refused to let them leave."

"Didn't you run?" Shana's voice was soft with horror.

"No. You don't understand—I didn't intend to leave. I didn't want to live anymore. For the last three years I'd tried to reach the recessed light in the ceiling so I could electrocute myself and just die; and I couldn't, I'd never been able to reach it. I just…I didn't want to live anymore. I just wanted to make sure I took them with me when I died so they couldn't do this to anyone else. So I kept shoving them back into the room and shoving them back and shoving them back while the house burned, and the floor caught fire, and it finally caved in, and that's the last thing I remember for a while.

"My next clear memory was of incredible pain. I was lying under something heavy—the mattress from my Aunt and Uncle's bed was flame-retardant and it landed on top of me, protecting me from the fire—and the fire had burned out, and I was screaming because I was burned and in agony and I just wanted it to stop. I don't know how I did it, but there was a stream in back of the cabin, and I got into it and it helped my burned skin but it hurt, oh God it hurt, and I could see huge patches of burned skin peeling off my body and floating away in the stream, and then I heard voices and I got up and I got away.

"I followed the stream—not really consciously, but when the pain got too bad I lay down in it and it helped and I could keep going. I couldn't think straight, I was in so much pain…but I was terrified they would find me and send me back, that I'd find myself back in the basement with my aunt and uncle hurting me for burning down the house.

"Somewhere along the way I crossed onto the Iroquois reservation; I didn't know when. I felt a hand on my arm, and I turned and it was a man who looked so much like Papa, and I just fainted. When I woke back up I was in one of the houses, and someone was bending over me, putting some sort of poultice on my body that smelled awful but it took the pain away. And that's all I really remember for about three months; waking up screaming when they changed the bandages and put more herbs and poultices on, and they kept asking me to let them take me to a white man's hospital, but even delirious I kept refusing, and they honored my wishes and kept me there.

"My next clear memory was of the woman who I later found was Oneida tribe's medicine woman Jennifer Aiennatha. I woke up and I was finally clear-headed, and Jennifer gave me soup, helped me eat it, and eventually she got the whole story from me. I begged her to stop helping me, to just let me die because I'd killed my aunt and uncle, but she told me what happened wasn't my fault.

"Authorities investigated, of course; Jennifer told me the fire and the two people who had died were all over the news. But the authorities never came looking for me, never tried to find me because they never even knew I was there—my aunt and uncle told everyone that I'd gone back to Korea, when all the time they were keeping me locked in the basement. Jennifer insisted that I be allowed to stay with her until I healed, and she's very forceful—and so they waited until I was well enough to make decisions, and they called a meeting of all the Six Nations clans on the reservation.

"They were very surprised when I addressed them in fluent Iroquois; Papa and I spoke it between us, he wanted me to know the language. I didn't tell them everything, of course—Jennifer is the only one I ever told the whole truth to, Jennifer and now you. But I told them enough for them to understand that I had no place else left to go, and that my father was Iroquois; I still wonder how it happened that I would stumble on my father's people… but one of the elders from Bear Clan of the Seneca nation remembered my father, and he said I looked enough like him that he would accept that I was part Iroquois, and thus a child of the People of the Mountain, and I should be treated according to clan traditions. So I set out to learn their ways and in a few years I was accepted as a tribeswoman, given a portion of land and a lodge to hold that would have been my father's wife's if he had ever brought one home to the People, and was accepted as a warrior of the tribe when I took the braves' test; I went out into the reservation to live by myself while a band of the tribe's braves hunted me, and if I did not get caught I'd be accepted as a warrior. Which I did, and I earned the right to make that courting flute, the one that got broken." She looked down at the blank lying in her hands.

"But reservation life is confining, and two years ago I decided to try my luck. I'd gotten a GED while I lived on the reservation, so with that I enlisted in the army. At first I wanted to be part of an airborne wing like Papa, but my skills and talents lay in tracking, hunting; stealth, and not being seen, so I decided to try for Ranger qualification. And that was when you met me at SERE school."


	9. Chapter 32: Present

**Chapter 32: Present**

There was silence in the infirmary for a long time after she was done. Hawk felt numb, shocked beyond words at what Cam had just told him. He knew there were sick, twisted people who took pictures while they were hurting children, and he knew it was Liv's job to find those people and arrest them…but he'd never once stopped to think about what happened to those that Olivia and other officers like her didn't find, and what happened to their child victims when they grew up.

A lot of things suddenly made sense; why her body looked like it had never been treated, why she hadn't gotten any cosmetic surgery after she recovered. She'd been eighteen, traumatized, barely alive, and terrified of being sent back into an utterly intolerable situation—a situation that she'd been willing to die to escape from because there had been no other way out.

Shana's voice was quiet. "At fifteen I was getting my first black belt. At eighteen I was worrying about ducking curfew and going out shopping with my friends and whether my Dad was going to like the next boy I wanted to date and when I was going to get my first car. I was looking forward to college and I had a loving family, a father and three brothers who spoiled me and petted me and at the same time trained me to be self-sufficient and capable and able to defend myself. Cameron, I can't imagine what you went through. You're an incredibly strong young woman."

"But you see now why I said I deserved to get burned. I set the fire and I deliberately kept my aunt and uncle from escaping the house when it burned. I killed them. I'm a murderer."

Hawk shook his head emphatically. "I'll have to say I don't agree with you on that. I think you did what you thought you had to, and that guilt is misplaced. But I'm not going to argue with you on that, Cam, because I'm not law enforcement and I don't know how they would view the incident. But I know someone who is, someone who I know will listen, and I'd like to take you to meet her this evening, if you're willing. She and her friend were involved in a top-secret classified military operation with us earlier this year, so they'll keep your secret if I ask them to, and I know her to be completely fair and empathetic, and she's spent her entire career hunting down and finding pedophiles like your uncle. I'm going to let her talk to you. All right?"

Cam was silent for a long moment, then shrugged. "All right. I don't think you're right, I think she'll want to arrest me on the spot, but I can't stop you from doing what you want to do. You're my commanding officer, after all."

"No, Cam. I'm not going to order you to go. You don't have to if you really don't want to. But I think talking to her about it will help you stop having those flashbacks and help you start finding some emotional healing, as well as put some very ugly ghosts to rest."

Cam nodded, but there was a defeated slump to her shoulders. "I'll go. Jennifer told me I couldn't run from it forever, and she was right, so I might as well face it." She leaned her head back on the pillow.

"Let's let you get some rest. I'll come find you when I'm ready to go. Come on, Shana." Shana rose from the bed after giving Cam's shoulder a last comforting hug, and left with Hawk.

Clayton opened the door to the hallway and almost walked right into Charlie. "Charlie!" Then he saw the look on Charlie's face. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough. Too much." Charlie's voice was soft. "I won't tell anyone. It is her wish that these matters remain private, and I will respect the request of a warrior. I won't even let her know that I know. I actually just stopped to give her this." He held up a small leather pouch.

"What is it?" Shana asked.

"Carving tools for the flute. She has not started working on it, so I thought perhaps she didn't have tools. I got her some."

_Yeah, sure you did._ Hawk recognized those as Charlie's personal tools. He buried that knowledge and said, "Go on in. I'm sure right now she'll welcome a friend and a change in topic."

After Charlie went in he watched Shana slump against the wall. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I will be. Jesus Christ, Clayton, I've never heard anything that bad before." She cleared her throat, pushed away from the wall, buried her feelings. "All right. I know that she wanted it kept private, but I do want to let Allie know since she'll be helping me with the court-martial."

"And through the two of you Snake Eyes and Flint will also know, and since you four will be the ones she deals with most often when Doc releases her to active duty, you'll know what to do if she flashes back in training and how to handle it." Clayton nodded. "Good. Go ahead." He watched Shana stride off down the hall, knew that after she talked to Lady Jaye, both women would be going to their respective lovers and they'd find their own comfort and solace from their men. It helped having someone to share things like this with, and he fully intended to share this with Liv that evening, whether Cam went with him or not. He was ninety-nine percent positive that Liv wouldn't blame Cam for it, but he couldn't be entirely, completely sure until he talked to her. Or Cam talked to her. Either would work.

He returned to his office, stared at his desk. At the piles of paperwork sitting on it, at the stuff that he had to do, and he sat down and pulled a sheet of paper toward him, filling in every blank, scribbling his signature where it was indicated. He worked mechanically through the first stack, part of his mind busy with the minutia on the sheet of paper in front of him and the rest of his mind quietly processing what he'd heard that morning.

He finished the first stack, started on the second. When he reached the end of that and he realized there were no other forms he needed to fill out, nothing left that required his attention, he turned his attention back to those papers and started single-mindedly filing them, using the excuse of having to clear his desk as a way to keep occupied as he mentally digested the events of the last month.

He was just putting the last file folder away when he heard a tap on his office door, and he turned to see Allie, Shana, Dash, and Snake Eyes standing in the doorway—and they were all out of uniform, so this wasn't formal. Their eyes flicked to his clean desktop, and then they stepped in. Dash closed the door.

Dash took one chair, Allie took the other. Snake Eyes remained standing, and contrary to her usual custom, instead of sitting on his desk (which she normally took every opportunity to do whenever his desk was clear) Shana stood next to him, their shoulders just lightly brushing each other's. Her eyes were still slightly red, but Hawk bit his lip; she wouldn't appreciate him calling attention to the fact that she'd been crying, most likely on Snake Eyes' shoulder.

Dash broke the silence. "Jesus, Clayton. I couldn't believe it when Allie told me." He was holding her hand, squeezing it gently.

"It kinda hit me hard, too," He gave up the attempt at looking busy and threw himself down in his chair. "I've never heard anything so horrible. She's eighteen and she wanted to die because there was no other way out."

"Three years. Three years living in a basement, and the only people she saw were people who just wanted to hurt her." Allie drew a shaky breath. "I was looking forward to college when I was eighteen."

"I was bugging my Dad for a car. And arguing about curfew." Shana shook her head.

Snake Eyes moved slightly, and everyone's eyes flicked to his hands. _What are you going to do now?_

Hawk sighed. "I realize that, from a completely legal standpoint, I should probably report her as a murderer and turn her over. But…I just can't. She's not responsible for what she did, and when you look at what she looks like now….I think those three months she spent lying on a bed on the reservation delirious with pain is all the punishment she should receive. And even that's too much; what she's already been through should count."

_That's if she's telling the truth._

"I don't think she would lie about something like that, Snake Eyes. And all you have to do is look at her to know that every word is true. Her burns, the lack of medical care, the damage done to her body." Shana faced him hotly.

_I don't think she's lying either, but what if she is?_ Snake Eyes turned to Hawk. _Does her personnel file have her addresses and places where she lived as a child? Can we look up records and find out if everything checks?_

"I can ask Liv to check it out. I want to take Cam to see her this evening. Liv's been dealing with victims her whole career, she'll be able to tell if Cam's lying and she'll be able to check out facts for me." Hawk went to the personnel file cabinet, pulled Cam's folder out. "You're welcome to look, however." As his personnel clerk, Allie had a right; as his second in command, Dash also had the right.

"Here it is. Lakeview apartments, Number 4 East 107th. It's in East Harlem, between FDR Dr and Central Park—in fact, it overlooks Manhattan reservoir, so I guess that's why it's called Lakeview. I'm going into the city tomorrow, so I'll check it out," Shana said, and Allie nodded."All right. In the meantime, let's get Cam into the Hummer and head on out to Liv's place. I don't want to get there too late and catch her going to sleep."

"Ettienne didn't tell me we were going to have visitors," Alex blinked as she opened the door and saw Clayton, Shana, Allie, and Cam standing there.

"This was sort of a spur of the moment thing," Clayton said. "I didn't even think…is Liv home? I really wanted to talk to her.

"What am I, chopped liver?" But Alex's smile was warm. "She's in the shower. Come on in. I see you brought someone new."

"Alex, this is Corporal Cameron Arlington, Ranger with the 75th, currently on special assignment with us until we get this court-martial thing squared away. Cam, this is Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot, formerly with the ICC and also, formerly, my Private."

"Formerly?"

Alex cleared her throat. "It's a long story, and if I told you I'd have to shoot you. And while I _can_ shoot—quite well, in fact—I prefer not to shoot my guests. Spoils the evening." She grinned at Cam, who chuckled nervously. "I don't want to do that. So come on in, have a seat. Liv's in the bathroom finishing up her shower; let me go let her know we have company." The Joes seated themselves on various bits of furniture in the living room, Clayton pre-empting a stool from the eat-in kitchen, and they waited.

In less time than Clayton thought was possible Olivia was in the living room, scrubbing at her hair with a towel and glaring at him. "You did _not_ tell me you were coming, or I would have made sure I was decent when you got here," she said accusingly to him.

"It was kind of a spur of the moment thing, Liv," he said placatingly as he got up and dropped a kiss on her cheek lightly. He really, _really_ wanted to kiss that full, adorably pouting lip, but he wasn't sure he wouldn't shock Cam if he did, so he settled for a kiss on the cheek."I had someone I wanted you to meet. Cam Arlington's a new addition to my team. Cam, this is Detective Olivia Benson, NYPD."

"Um. Hi." Cam stood, shaking Liv's hand as Olivia smiled warmly. "I bet you can't wait." She said, gesturing to the protruding baby bump.

Olivia laughed. "Got that right. I can't wait to be able to see my feet again, to be able to tie my shoes and zip up a nice pair of jeans."

"How far along are you?"

"About halfway. Feels like forever sometimes, though." Olivia sat down in one of the single chairs, Clayton sat on the arm of the chair, and Shana scooted off the couch and sat cross-legged on the floor to give Alex a seat on the couch. "All right, I know you didn't come here to discuss how eager I am to get this baby out of me. What's up?" And she directed her question to Cam, not the others.

Cam took a deep breath. "I need to confess a murder. Two murders."

Alex sucked in a breath. Olivia didn't move, but her voice took on a subtly different tone, gentle but persuasive. "You don't look like a serial killer to me."

"I killed my aunt and uncle eight years ago. I set fire to the house and I prevented them from leaving."

"And why did you do that?" there was no accusation in Olivia's voice; her tone was pleasant and even.

"They…hurt…me."

Olivia said gently, "Tell me about it."

Slowly, under Olivia's gentle coaxing, the story came out. Far from being the emotion-ridden story of the morning, this was slightly more restrained, Clayton believed because Cam was emotionally and mentally exhausted. Halfway through her narrative, Alex quietly slipped a yellow legal pad out of her briefcase and started taking notes.

_Oh Jesus, Alex is going to want to prosecute,_ Clayton thought helplessly, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he stayed silent.

After Cam finished her story, Olivia said, "Cam, why do you think you're guilty of murder?"

"I…I killed my aunt and uncle. They were trying to escape their burning bedroom and I wouldn't let them."

"And you weren't trying to escape yourself?" Cam shook her head. "Why?"

"I…I didn't…I didn't want to live anymore. I wanted to die. There was no way out, they…they would have killed me eventually. Some of the people they brought were starting to say I wasn't attractive enough anymore, I didn't look young enough anymore. When…when they first started coming they were really careful not to cut me or leave scars, but as time went by they started to not care anymore."

"And you thought they were going to kill you?"

"I…yes, they…I heard them talking to my uncle one day about how much they could pay him for a movie where they could kill me." Clayton listened, horrified. The room was silent except for Alex's pen scribbling on the pad.

"Wouldn't it have made sense for them to keep you alive, so they could make more money?" Clayton stared at Olivia, about to yell at her for grilling Cam, then shut up when he saw her face. This was just as hard on Liv as it was on Cam.

"When I first went to live with them, my aunt told me once when she was mad at me that she could just send me back and get another one. I didn't understand what she meant at the time but I figured later that they probably meant they could find another little girl to be their 'niece' and make money from her."

"So at the time you shoved them back in that burning bedroom, what was going through your mind?"

"I wanted them to die. I guess…I didn't care if I lived or died either, as long as I could keep them from doing this to anyone else ever again."

"So you weren't angry, you didn't want revenge, you didn't want to live. You just wanted them to stop hurting you and make sure they couldn't hurt anyone else, is that it?" Olivia said. Cam nodded mutely. "Cam, I'm not disputing that you killed them. I'm not disputing that you wanted them to die. But what you just told me erases all of that. They isolated you, systematically cut you off from the rest of the world, did unimaginable things to you and hurt you, and at the time you started the fire you'd been without meaningful human contact for three years. When you pushed them back into the room and prevented them from leaving you weren't thinking about revenge, you wanted to make sure they'd never be able to hurt anyone else like you were hurt. You were protecting others at the same time you were defending yourself."

"It wasn't self defense, it…it was night and they were asleep…"

Alex leaned forward. "It _was_ self-defense. Cam, in order for it to be self defense you had to feel in danger for your life. Which you were; you told Liv that," she flipped a couple of pages, "they talked about killing you _in front of you_. You were terrified they were going to murder you. And so you did the only thing you could think of, the only thing you knew you could do to make it end. You didn't murder your aunt and uncle, Cam, you defended yourself and anyone else they might have chosen to come after you. Do you understand?"


	10. Chapter 33: Diary

**Chapter 33: Diary**

"I…I don't know."

Olivia leaned forward. "Cam. Have you ever had any close relationships with someone your own age or a little younger?"

"J-J-Jack. Jack Hammond. When I lived at Osan with my father we shared a house with Uncle Art Hammond, he was Papa's best friend, and his wife Annie—I called her Mama Annie because she was my mom, the one I could go to for advice and comfort when Papa wasn't there and had duty. And Jack was like my brother even though he was younger, he's two years younger than I am. I promised to write them when I got to New York, and they promised to write me, but I wrote and wrote and never got an answer back and I guess they forgot about me."

Clayton swallowed hard; he could see the hurt that had caused, and he filed the name in the back of his mind for further reference. Art and Annie Hammond, and a son, Jack. When he had a moment he would go and find out what happened to that family. Maybe Cam wouldn't feel so alone, so lonely, if she had someone to connect with_. I wonder if they ever even _got _her letters; her aunt and uncle would have been the ones responsible for getting letters out and giving her stamps, and they'd also see the mail when it came in and they could have thrown away any letters the Hammonds may have sent Cam. In fact, the way they deliberately isolated her and cut her off from the outside world so they could make their kiddie porn undisturbed, I'll bet my pension that's what they did._

Olivia was still speaking. "…so, Cam, if you were here in my shoes and Jack told you what you just told me, what would you tell him?"

"It…it wasn't his fault. He was trying to protect himself. He just wanted to stop them from doing it to anyone else." Cam was crying now, but it wasn't the pent-up, angry sobbing she'd done earlier in the infirmary; now it was exhausted, anguished, grieving crying. Clayton thought that was good by the way Shana was subtly relaxing, and even Olivia looked satisfied. "I didn't want to kill them, I didn't, I still hear them screaming in my nightmares, and I just want it to stop! I just wanted them to stop hurting me, but everything I tried, like stealing the kitchen knife—nothing worked, and it was never going to end, and I just wanted it all _to __**stop**_**!**!"

Olivia got up from her chair, and Allie quietly relinquished her seat beside Cam so Olivia could hug the sobbing woman. "It's okay, Cam, it's okay. Go ahead and let it all out. It's okay. You carried this around for too long. Just let it go. It wasn't your fault, you were eighteen and you had nowhere to turn, they cut you off from everything and everyone until you simply didn't have any other choices."

Clayton waited until the door closed behind Allie and Cam before flopping down on the couch beside Olivia. "I don't know how you do this job." He felt wrung out, emotionally exhausted.

Olivia didn't look much better as she curled up close to him. "Sometimes I don't either. Every time I catch one, I think of all the others out there I can't touch. And when I see people like Cam who are struggling to go on with their lives even after something like this happens, it hurts to think that if I could have caught their abusers and I could have saved them." She looked at Clayton. "I want to go to work tomorrow and do some digging, find out who her aunt and uncle were. She never said their names."

"Look up her name. Cameron Heather Arlington. And when they lived here in the city they were at Lakeview apartments in East Harlem."

"I want to go out there tomorrow morning and see if anyone remembers a little ballet dancer living there."

"Sounds good to me." Clayton yawned. "Except Allie just took the Hummer."

"I'll drive Liv to work in the Mustang, then we can go out and look. I can be a little late to work, I don't have a court case tomorrow." Alex yawned herself, and removed her glasses and scrubbed at her eyes tiredly. "Clayton, I know you'll bunk down with Liv. Shana—"

"Uh uh, Ettienne will kill me if he finds out anyone's been in that bed but him. I may be good but even I'm not getting between that man and you. I'll be fine on the couch out here." Shana waited until Clayton had heaved himself out of the couch, then gave Olivia a hand up, and both of them headed down the hall toward the bedroom.

He thought about the evening for all of about two seconds before his eyes drifted closed.

He woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee, and he blinked at the plain white ceiling of Liv's apartment as he processed where he was and what had happened the night before. Then he rolled over to look at the bed next to him.

Liv. Sleeping peacefully. The lines on her face smoothed out when she slept, leaving her looking younger and somehow more innocent, and he again felt that peculiar sense of rightness, that—how had Cam described it? With Liv sleeping beside him, the world made sense. And he wondered what it would be like to wake up beside her every morning, to cross this room and pick up his son from out of that crib and take him to the kitchen with him so Mommy could sleep…

Mommy. She was going to be Mommy.

And deep in his heart, he _wanted_ to be Daddy. Or Papa, as Cam called her father. He wanted to be the one this little boy ran to for advice, for help, someone to teach him to throw a football, catch a baseball. Wanted to take his son to ball games, give him advice about girlfriends and how to handle feminine moods.

But he'd spent the last months steadfastly clinging to his promise to Olivia to give her as much space as she wanted for the baby. She'd never had a father, and she'd done fine, and she'd never had anyone to love who loved her unconditionally in return, until the baby, and he knew already she'd be a great Mom.

And he wondered, for the first time, how it would feel to adjust to civilian life, to give up the military and settle down, to enjoy a quiet private life with Olivia. Not having to be responsible for anyone but himself and his family, to go to a regular job and come home at the end of the day to a loving wife and a squealing, happy child.

_But she wants this child for herself. And after what she's gone through in her life, she deserves it. So no horning in unless she says it's what she wants. I wonder if she's picked out a name for him yet. _His heart ached. _Maybe I could…suggest one. It's not like I'm insisting my last name be on the birth certificate, she could still have the baby's last name be Benson._

He grinned as he stared at the crib across the room. _She's left the fighter planes and tanks on the mobile. I should find some stuff with her beloved Mustang on it, too. And she really should have a bigger apartment, a bigger room…little guy should have his own room. Little guy. Hmm. My dad's name was August, I wonder if she'd like that._ "August." He rolled the name around. _Yeah, I like it._

"That's a nice name. August. Auggie for short. August…Benson."

_August Abernathy sounds better,_ but he didn't say it aloud. Instead, he said, "My Dad's name is August. Career military like me. Sent me to West Point, he was so proud I graduated at the top of my class. He and Mom were happy…I don't remember them ever arguing."

"Are they still alive?"

"Yeah, happily retired up in Martha's Vineyard." _And they don't know they're going to have a grandson._

"Do they...do they know that, um, we're—I'm—you're…"

"No. They don't. It's yours, not mine, remember?"

"Yeah. I remember." She got up out of bed without another word, then headed for the bathroom, and he stared at her back, wondering what he'd just said to piss her off. Oh well. She was pregnant, maybe it was one of those moods.

Shana and Alex were sitting on the stools at the eat-in kitchen bar, looking over sheets of paper. He yawned as he wandered in and headed straight for the cabinet with the coffee cups, poured a cup of coffee, and took a sip of it black, then peeked over Shana's shoulder. "Is this what I think it is? A DD 458?"

"Alex is helping me go over these charge sheets. I'm going to prefer them to Lieutenant General Johnson today. There's a 120 day allowable deadline between the time the offense is committed and the time the court-martial convenes, Alex called it a military statute of limitations, so we have to get this in at least by the end of the week or the court martial won't convene in time to beat that deadline." Shana sipped her own coffee absently as she read over some changes Alex had made in red pen over her own handwriting.

Olivia joined them in the kitchen moments later, and Clayton poured her coffee for her, then added the cream and sugar and gave it to her. She smiled warmly at him; good, her bad mood was gone, and she took a sip as she looked over Alex's shoulder. "Please don't tell me you were up all night."

"No, no. We actually got up only a little before you did. I let Shana borrow some night clothes, but she wanted to get changed before her commanding officer saw her in something inappropriate." Alex's blue eyes twinkled over the rim of her cup at Clayton and Shana.

Clayton widened his eyes in mock innocence. "I would never presume to tell my hand-to-hand combat expert whether she looked inappropriate. I value my life way too much."

"Good. I don't need any more pictures of me out of uniform circulating around base." Shana growled.

"Huh?" Alex frowned at her.

"Remember Club Mangos, in Colombia? Remember the video Wayne took?"

"Um. Yeah." Alex turned a charming shade of pink. Clayton felt his neck heat up.

"Despite my warning him that if it got around base I was going to put him through some particularly punishing workouts, the still shots made their way around the base's computers to various on-network emails. I am most definitely not happy because the one that seems to be the most popular is the one where I'd just joined you and Courtney. And the second most popular is the one where I'm checking to see if my throwing stars are still in place. I'm almost afraid to go into Snake Eyes' room because I'm worried that picture will be blown up and pasted to his ceiling like Courtney's blown up on Wayne's."

Alex was trying desperately hard not to laugh, but little titters were escaping around the rim of her cup. Clayton's sides were hurting from trying to keep in his laughter. Olivia excused herself hastily and bolted from the room, and Clayton hurriedly mumbled an excuse and followed her to the bathroom, where they closed the door and laughed themselves silly.

By the time they came back they were under control, and Alex and Shana were deep in discussion about the charging documents. "But he's not at your base, so this Form 457 was signed when you were still at Camp Mackall."

"Yeah, Allie got them signed by Broadview when he was there. Thing is, at the time we hadn't even thought about preferring charges against Hilton for his negligence in not reporting these, so at this point I don't know how that will go. I can tell you that Allie's including a note to Lieutenant General Johnson that we'd like to prefer charges against Hilton too, for misprision—negligence—and since General Abernathy is the accuser and the one who reported it, the court martial will be convened at our base. It means we're probably going to have to play host to the three of them until this is over, and depending on how Johnson decides to handle this, we'll be restricting them to portions of the base and Cam will need to be restricted to other portions so that they don't come into contact."

"They shouldn't even be on the same base at all. It's not fair that she's the one who will have to be restricted; she hasn't done anything." Alex slapped her pen down on the paperwork with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

"Alex, that's how the military court system works. It's understood that these people, accused and accusers, are military and will behave at all times as military professionals, and part of that is an honor code. Nothing's going to happen to Cam while she's on our base. Not to mention which, she's still on medical leave and not on active duty so that narrows her chances of coming into contact with him."

"What about the maiming? Do we have evidence to support that?" Alex flipped through the supporting documents again.

"I got our CMO's statement. Cam's body, especially her lower abdominal area, is particularly vulnerable to injury and trauma because of her previous injury—the fire scarring and the internal damage from her…captivity…and while the abdominal slap used in SERE training isn't supposed to leave lasting injury, it is documented in her personnel file that care should be taken with physical contact to her lower torso or avoided altogether if one wasn't sure just how much force to actually use, and that is something that Broadview should have been aware of when they discussed setting up individual Resistance training plans for the third week of the course. It could be inferred that he did intend to lightly injure her and it got excessive and out of hand."

"Who checked her out? Doc?" Olivia leaned in to look at the statement.

"Yeah." Shana handed her the paper.

"You know, I didn't think about this, but our ME, Melinda Warner, is former Air Force and she's definitely experienced with examining women for old and new sexual trauma. If Doc wants to…consult …with her, or if Cam herself is open to the idea of having a woman examine her as opposed to a man, I could see if Melinda's willing." Olivia handed the paper back to Shana.

Shana regarded her with surprise. "I think that's a good idea. There may be some nuances of Cam's physical condition that Doc wouldn't be sensitive to—he admitted himself he's not an expert in feminine medicine when Alex came in from the Congo. I'll check with him."

"In the meantime," Alex started gathering up paperwork, "We need to get on with our day. Liv, we'll drop you off at work and I'll run Clayton and Shana out to Lakeview apartments, and then I'll drop them off at Fort Wadsworth and go to work from there."

The Lakeview Apartments were in East Harlem, a tall highrise facing Central Park. The three wings of the building overlooked a small playground, and it wasn't gated, so the two Joes and Alex were able to walk onto the grounds easily.

"It's not a seedy little dive, but it's not a luxury apartment either," Alex looked around. "Not as nice as Liv's, though it is nice for Harlem."

Shana wandered over to stare at the single large tree on a cleared patch of ground. There had been more trees at some point, but they'd either died or been knocked down, and there was only this sturdy old oak left. "The treehouse must have been in this tree," she said.

"Yeah. Look right there. Isn't that an old nail sticking out of the trunk there?' Alex pointed. "That's probably where the platform was."

Shana wrapped her arms around the slightly leaning trunk, and Clayton stared. 'Shana…"

"I just want to get a better look." Shana scaled the tree and was at the lowest fork in the branches barely a minute later. "They haven't rebuilt the treehouse in a while, probably since the original one fell through." She stopped speaking, climbed a little higher.

"Shana, I don't know if that branch will hold your weight! What are you doing up there?"

"Hold on." Shana' voice filtered down through the leaves, starting to turn a little brown at the edges with the onset of fall. "I see something. Here, catch this." A moment later something small wrapped in plastic came falling out of the tree.

Clayton picked it up; moments later, Shana herself came down the trunk and took it from him. The rubber band was rotted and old, and it disintegrated as soon as she touched it; but the plastic around it was still intact, and all three of them gasped as Shana pulled the plastic off. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Cam's diary. It has to be. She said she hid it up there in a hole in the trunk, that she thought it would be safe because no one else climbed the tree. And if they never rebuilt the treehouse, then that means no one has been up there since the day she broke her legs eight years ago."

The little book had the same sort of flimsy lock on it that came with most cheap, mass-produced little girl diaries; with the help of Alex's hairpin, they got the front cover open. It had been well wrapped in plastic and preserved, and when they opened the front cover they saw 'Cameron Heather Arlington' written on the first page in childish scrawl.


	11. Chapter 34: Special Court Martial

**Chapter 34: Special Court Martial**

"How are you feeling?"

Cam saluted as she came to a stop in front of Hawk's desk. "Much better, Sir." And she looked better; her head and spine were straight, she was moving a little better, and there seemed to be a smile hovering around the corner of her lips. "Doc says he'll release me for light duty by the end of the week, and he wants me to move into the women's quarters and out of his infirmary, and Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett said we'll do that this afternoon, and she'll give me a tour."

"Good. I'm sure you've realized by now that rules around base are a little more relaxed here than some of the other places you've been posted to, not only in terms of your quarters and number of personal belongings but also in uniform, so if there are any personal accessories you'd like to wear in addition to the regular uniform, you're welcome to. I'm sure Charlie can help you with that." He'd wanted to speak to Charlie that morning, but hadn't been able to find the man; it was Flint who told him that Charlie was in the infirmary with Cam when he wasn't on duty. "Told me he was helping her work on her flute" had been Flint's exact words, and Hawk had decided to leave them alone.

Cam had had a rough month, and having to face her past and her emotional baggage had to be stressful, and having something to work on that was completely apart from duty and rules and regulations and completely separate from the various traumas she was fighting with would be therapeutic, and having someone to work with, someone who she might feel a connection with on the basis of shared heritage, would also help; he wanted her to start making some friends on base here. She seemed very isolated and lonely, and part of his personal promise to himself when he took command of this project was to make sure his people were as happy and comfortable here as they could be, within the limits of what he could help. Because of the need for secrecy, the Joes didn't get off base much, and they were necessarily limited in what recreational activities they could partake in. Hence the gym, the rec rooms, the fact that Scarlett and Snake Eyes had a dojo, and he allowed them more personal possessions than most other bases so they could pursue hobbies and outside interests.

If hanging out with Charlie and woodcarving made Cam happy, he was all for it.

He opened his desk drawer now and took out the plastic wrapped bundle. After picking the lock to make sure it was Cam's, he and Shana had decided not to pry further; he'd wrapped the diary back up in the plastic bag she'd wrapped it in eight years ago, and when they got back to base he'd replaced the rotted rubber band with a fresh one.

He held it out to her now. "I thought you might appreciate having this back."

She had a puzzled look in her eyes as she took a single step forward and reached for it—a look like it seemed familiar but she hadn't quite placed it yet. She took it from him but didn't open it right away, and Hawk smiled a little at her. "Go ahead and open it," he said. She took the rubber band off, unwrapped the plastic—and he saw light dawn on her face as she saw what lay under the plastic. "My diary," she breathed, and the smile that spread across her face was real and unfeigned, and happy. "How did you find my diary?"

"Went out to Lakeview apartments with Shana this morning. Shana found it when she climbed the tree. I thought you might want it back."

"I…I never thought I'd see it again." There were tears in her eyes as she caressed the cover, which had a pair of ballet shoes printed on it; the sort of diary one would expect a ten year old girl who wanted to be a ballerina to have. There was a curious incongruity between the neutral-colored military fatigues and the once-bright, now faded pink printed picture, but Cam held it like it was infinitely more precious that the treasures of the Vatican, and Hawk was honestly glad that they'd been able to give that back to her. "Thank you, Clayton."

She was in uniform, and so was he, so technically she'd just broken the rules about code names and respect, but Hawk couldn't find it in his heart to be upset with her, so he said, simply, "You're welcome. And I didn't know if Allie and Shana and Cover Girl told you about it yet, but there's a smaller workout room where they do their yoga and…women stuff…and it has a rail running at about waist height around the room. If you wanted to dance I'm sure you can talk the girls into letting you use it; I'm sure they'll be happy to."

Her face was alight again. "Thank you…I don't know what to say…"

He made shooing motions with his hands. "Get on with you. Go ahead and move your stuff and give my Doc back his infirmary so I don't have to hear him complain."

Her step was definitely lighter when she left.

And now there was another matter requiring his attention, and he steeled himself as he tapped a communication code. "Lieutenant General Johnson, please."

"He's expecting your call. I'll patch you through." And moments later Johnson's head and shoulders filled Hawk's desk monitor.

"Good morning General Hawk."

"Good morning, Lieutenant General Johnson."

"Well, when I saw what was waiting for me when I started work this morning I have to say it wasn't a good morning after that. I have to admit to a certain amount of shock when I saw the charging documents, and even more shock when I saw what charges were being preferred."

Hawk took a deep breath. "Lieutenant General Johnson, I wouldn't have had my Staff Sergeant and my Master Sergeant prepare those statements and prefer those charges if I didn't myself feel they were absolutely necessary. Have you read my statement, and Corporal Arlington's statement, as to what happened during the course of the SERE-C training that wrapped a week ago?"

"I read it, but I still can't believe that a decorated military professional like Colonel Broadview would have allowed personal dislike of a trainee to so affect his work that he would endanger a trainee's life. If it were anyone else, Abernathy, I would have dismissed it as a soldier's dislike of the course and personal dislike of the instructor, but since it is you—and there are multiple corroborating statements not only from the other trainees but also members of the 82nd's Company A—I had no choice but to put credence in the charges. However, there are a few obstacles to convening a court-martial. One is that you're on a classified military base."

"The trainees and the members of Company A provided written testimony already, and if personal questioning is necessary they can provide testimony remotely according to the rules laid out in the Manual for Courts-Martial. They don't need to travel here. And my base is prepared to receive Colonel Broadview and his JAG counsel here pending your approval."

"Another obstacle is that you don't have a JAG officer there on base."

"A regrettable oversight, and one that I will correct at the earliest opportunity—I've never needed one here, Lieutenant General, I've never had to convene a court-martial here before. However, my Master Sergeant Shana O'Hara is licensed to practice law, as is one of my other officers here, Sergeant Frank Talltree."

"They may have a license to practice law, but they have no practical experience."

Hawk steeled himself. "Master Sergeant O'Hara and Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett were aided and advised in the preparation of the charging documents and testimony preparation by an actively licensed and currently practicing prosecuting member of the New York District Attorney's office."

"Ah. And this member is…?"

"Former US Army Private Alexandra Cabot."

Lieutenant General Johnson looked momentarily puzzled…and then a slow smile spread across his face. "Advisory capacity, hmm?"

"Purely advisory."

"Has she decided to join the JAG office yet?"

Hawk chose his words carefully. "She…is keeping her options open at the moment."

"Have you filed discharge papers yet?"

Hawk blinked. "I wasn't aware that my Staff Sergeant had to. She was never an official member of the US Armed Forces."

"Actually, General Hawk, she is. Although I realize that at the time it was issued it was in the interest of providing a cover identity to protect her from further exploitation and harm by a rogue member of the US Army, she did receive and sign her commission from the Secretary of the Army and if I remember correctly, you signed it too, and you are the officer in charge of her, so…technically she is still a commissioned officer in the US Army since you haven't filed official discharge papers."

Hawk blinked. "All right. Do I need to file discharge papers?"

"At this point I do not recommend that you do. As a commissioned officer she is allowed to serve in an advisory capacity during matters of military discipline—i.e., this court martial, and if she so chooses she can sit as co-Trial Counsel for your Master Sergeant."

Hawk blinked as the meaning of that sank in. "Alex—Private Cabot can sit in on the court martial?"

"Private Cabot, as a commissioned officer in the US Army, can accompany Trial Counsel in the matters set before the court-martial and can act as the Trial Counsel may direct."

_Alex can legally and officially help Scarlett prosecute Broadview!_ Hawk resisted the urge to grin and said instead, "I'm sure Master Sergeant O'Hara will be pleased to note that Private Cabot's advisory capacity is noted and approved." _Are you kidding? She'll be ecstatic!_

"It would lend further credence to her establishing credentials if she were to file papers enlisting her to take the eighteen week JAG orientation and training course prior to the start of the Court-Martial, but it is not strictly necessary. However, lack of those papers is going to open her up to some challenges by the defense as to her ability to sit in as co-Trial Counsel and will delay proceedings somewhat."

"I'll speak with her." Hawk promised. "Were there any other problems with the charging documents?"

"Your Master Sergeant—no doubt under the direction of the aforementioned commissioned Private Cabot—said that she would recommend preferring charges of misprision against Colonel Broadview's superior officer, Base Commander Hilton, however, this was an afterthought and no official preliminary inquiry had so far been conducted." Johnson's voice took on a distinctly formal command tone.

"Having read over the statements provided by yourself, the other trainees, and the members of the 82nd's Company A, I do hereby find grounds to prefer charges onto both Base Commander Colonel Hilton and Colonel Broadview, and abjure you to convene a Court-Martial directly to investigate and present findings into this matter."

Hawk saluted. "I hereby accept your decision and will convene this court martial forthwith. As the convening authority I stand ready to host such members as may be required to complete the formal inquiry into this matter and reach a just and equitable conclusion." The traditional formal response to court-martial etiquette; he'd had Scarlett tell him what he was supposed to say.

"Expect to receive Base Commander Colonel Frederick Hilton, SERE Instructor Colonel Thomas Broadview, and their JAG official in the middle of next week and a Military Judge assigned to this case by the US Army's Judge Advocate General Corps next Friday. At Hilton and Broadview's arrival your Master Sergeant can fill out and have Base Commander Colonel Hilton sign and receive the forms applicable to his charges and court martial can convene the following week."

"Aye Sir." Hawk saluted smartly and waited for his screen to go dark before slumping into his chair and letting out an explosive breath. Then he got on the base's intercom. "Attention, all Joes. There will be a mandatory briefing at 1500 this afternoon for all personnel on base in the main briefing room." He didn't have to say anything else; all his soldiers were professional and they'd all be present.

And, in line with his expectations, when he walked into the briefing room at fifteen hundred, his entire base was there. "I'll make this brief," he said, taking the podium as his soldiers saluted and then sat. Scarlett, Snake Eyes, Flint, Lady Jaye, and Duke were in the first row; he didn't see Cam until he got to the back of the room, and when he finally spotted her short figure, she was sitting in a chair in the back row dwarfed by Charlie IronKnife next to her. He reflected on the incongruousness of their physical appearance even as he contemplated the possibility of that turning into a clear friendship. _Maybe something more?_ he thought, and then cleared it out of his mind. After what Cam had been through and what she looked like now, a physical relationship might not be possible, or wanted; he couldn't see how she would ever invite sexual contact again after having so many people violate her when she was young and helpless and unable to escape. He wasn't sure, if he were her, if he'd ever look at sex the same way after something like that.

"We will be playing host to three guests in the middle of next week, and one more will arrive at the end of next week. As most of you know, I was ordered to take a SERE refresher course after the deplorable events surrounding Operation: White Queen earlier this summer. While I was at SERE training I noted a number of issues, some of which violations were so egregious that I felt compelled to call a halt to the training and removed one of the trainees to ensure her safety. Master Sergeant O'Hara and Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett consulted with Private Alexandra Cabot to perform a preliminary inquiry into the matter at my urging and forwarded the charges this morning to Lieutenant General Johnson, my immediate superior after the loss of the late General Clancy. It was the Lieutenant General's opinion that the charges were preferred correctly and has hereby given authority for a Special Court-Martial be convened here at our base.

"Base Commander Colonel Frederick Hilton and SERE instructor Colonel Thomas Broadview will be arriving on base in the middle of next week. They will be offered all the standard courtesies available to such visiting dignitaries for the duration of their stay; please refer any questions you may have as to appropriate conduct to Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett.

"I will, however, insist that their access to certain areas of the base be restricted, so that witnesses whose testimony will be requested by Trial Counsel—TC, for those of you not familiar with court-martial proceedings—will not be intimidated by their presence and so that confidentiality and impartiality will be maintained. As we do not have a JAG officer on base, Master Sergeant O'Hara, as the next ranking officer with a law license, will be serving as Trial Counsel. I intend on activating Private Alexandra Cabot's reserve commission and requesting that she return to base here to serve as co-Trial Counsel; as she is a current practicing member of the New York City District Attorney's Office, Prosecuting branch, she is qualified to sit as co-TC to Master Sergeant O'Hara. I, as a witness to the deplorable events, will be testifying and so for the moment I will be stepping down as your base commander; I will perform administrative functions requiring higher authority but Warrant Officer Dashiell Faireborn and Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett will be handling contact with our guests.

"Base Commander quarters will be off-limits to our guests, to limit my contact and exposure to them." He was secretly glad of that; he really didn't want to have to deal with Hilton and Broadview. "The women's dorm wing will be off-limits as well, considering that TC, co-TC, and a witness will be staying in that wing. I cannot, however, demand that they steer clear of common areas such as mess hall, recreation, PT, Gym, and workout rooms, much though I would like to; but neither can I restrict my personnel—TC Master Sergeant O'Hara, Corporal Arlington, and co-TC Private Cabot—to the women's wing since this is, after all, their base. I will therefore simply ask all three of you to behave as professional soldiers, strictly observe protocol, and seek to avoid all conflict if at all possible; if one of our guests enters a room do not escalate confrontations, nor respond in any way should they be so rude as to attempt to speak with you. Exit the room and in case of any untoward behavior please report the matter to Warrant Officer Faireborn. Is this understood?"

"Aye Aye, General Hawk!" came from all of his girls.


	12. Chapter 35: Dance

**Chapter 35: Dance**

"You're kidding me."

He grinned, knowing that Alex, on the other end of the phone, could hear the smile in his voice. "Nope. Not kidding. Apparently when we put all that paperwork in place, even though it was supposed to be simply for the purpose of providing you with a cover identity, you're still a commissioned officer and you're perfectly capable of sitting as Scarlett's co-Trial Counsel."

"Oh my God."

When the silence stretched on for a little longer than he thought it should, he prompted her, "Alex?"

"Yeah I'm here…"

"You may be physically there but your mind is a million miles away. Where'd you go?"

"I'm trying to rearrange my trial schedule and assign some cases to others. When will the court martial start?"

"We'll convene the third Monday of this month. Hilton and Broadview and their JAG officer will arrive next Wednesday, the military Judge will arrive next Friday, take the weekend to presumably look over the details and facts of the case and give us time to choose who sits on the findings panel—that's what we call a military jury—and arrange for any witnesses that may be deemed necessary to stand by at their respective bases ready to give remote swearable testimony if they're called."

"How long will it take?"

"Look to be here at base for about a week, tops—two days, at the earliest, but that's assuming the defense won't bog us down with motions and delays and adjournments."

"So I need to take the week after next off. That's good, I can do that. I only have one trial that week and it's not a big one, I can ask for a continuance and Judge Petrovsky will grant it. Now what are you doing about witness tampering?"

"Our guests will be warned that the women's wing is off-limits and my people have been instructed that if they see our guests enter common areas they are to leave. If our guests attempt to escalate the encounter they'll be referred to Flint and he'll take care of the matter."

"What about third party tampering?"

"No one on my base is going to give him help." Hawk was absolutely certain of that. "I haven't been spending a lot of my time home, so I don't really know how my people are adjusting to Cam, but I haven't heard any complaints yet so it's okay. And I can always depend on the female grapevine to spread the word on what really happened. There isn't a single one of my soldiers who doesn't know that my girls are just as deadly as my guys, and they'll reinforce the girls' points if they have to. They rarely do; Shana and Allie are very good at getting their point across."

Alex laughed. "All right, I'll clear my schedule and Ettienne can come pick me up here next Friday; I'll admit, I kinda missed seeing you guys and he'll be ecstatic that we can at least share the same roof for a little while, at least. So to speak."

Hawk grinned as he hung up the phone, stood and stretched. It had been a while since he just walked around base and checked on his people, so he got up and left his office, wandering along the corridors and peeking in. The six recruits, including Walker, were drilling in the hallways under Sergeant Slaughter's direction, and Hawk stopped to watch them go by. Walker noticed he was standing there and saluted as he went by, and Hawk hoped that meant the guy was finally starting to understand that his attitude and gender-exclusive viewpoint wasn't welcome here.

He knew Courtney had just gotten back from her course on Tank Mechanics and Light Armored Vehicle repair at Fort Benning, but to his surprise he didn't find her in the garage moaning about what abuse her favorite on-base vehicle, his Hummer, had taken during her absence. Since this was almost a routine with her, he headed for the women's wing, only to find her not there. It wasn't until he stuck his head in the gym and looked that he saw The Girls, including Snake Eyes, standing at the far end, clustered in the doorway of the smaller workout room they reserved for their private use and to which Scarlett had, one day in a fit of mischief, taped a sign on the door that said 'No Boyz Aloud'. Although it was a source of constant amusement for everyone on base, male and female alike, the sign had never come down and the guys had actually observed the 'no boys' rule—although they had dragged some weights and other equipment into another workout room on the other side of the gym and tagged it with a sign that said 'No Girlz Aloud', which was respected by the female gender. Hawk just found it funny.

Allie turned at the sound of Hawk's footsteps, and smiled even as she pressed a finger to her lips in the universal request for silence. Hawk nodded to show he understood, then stopped and looked in.

Music filled the workout room, which was about twenty feet square with mirrors on three walls. Allie, Shana and Courtney used it for yoga, meditation, physical therapy workouts when one of them was injured, so he was used to seeing it covered with mats; it took him a moment to realize he was actually seeing the hardwood floor.

And in the middle of it, Cam was dancing.

She was dressed in a black leotard and pink tights that matched her pink ballet shoes. On a chair in the corner was the small, ancient CD boombox that the girls used to play relaxation music while they did…whatever…in here. Now it was playing something energetic but classical, something that Clayton had heard before but never known the name to, and Cam leaped, twisted, drifted around the room, seeming no longer a creature of earth, like they were; feather-light and floating, on her toes one minute, airborne the next. There was a smile of pure joy on her face, her eyes were closed and there didn't seem to be any pattern to her moves, nothing rehearsed or planned. She was simply moving as the music suggested to her.

"If she had been given the chance she would have been exquisite. Easily the equal to any of the great dancers." Allie spoke in a low voice to Hawk, and he remembered that her upper-crust upbringing would have included exposure to dancing and dancers and performances like this one. "My mother made me take ballet lessons when I was younger but I didn't have any special talent; I never moved like she does, and I never knew anyone that did until the first time my parents took me to the ballet. I knew then that I would never be a dancer. Not like she is." Allie's attention returned to the dance but her voice shook with anger and sorrow. "Dear God, what an absolute colossal waste. Locked in a basement for pedophiles to brutalize, when she could have been developing talent and technique; grubbing in the dirt with you and the other SERE trainees enduring privation and humiliation when she could be gracing stages all over the world having roses showered at her feet by kings and queens."

"I told her the same thing when I found her dancing. She said the life of a dancer is very hard and demanding and there would always be someone out there better than she was, but I could tell she really wanted to be a dancer, although I didn't know at the time what had happened to prevent it." And his heart ached for the lost opportunity—when you could dance like that, when you loved it as much as she so obviously did, loved it so much it was an integral part of her, it must have absolutely killed her to be lying tied to a bed for filthy old men to beat and rape.

The music ended just then and Scarlett quietly pulled the door closed so that Cam wouldn't know they'd been watching, and she shook her head as angry tears stood out in her green eyes. "I can't explain it, one would have to actually see her dancing to understand, but I know why she would have chosen to set fire to a house and die in it rather than endure another day of being trapped as she was trapped. She's like a bird; you take something out of her when you put her in a cage. I wonder she didn't go completely insane those three years locked in that basement. After seeing her in there, Jesus, no jury in the world would convict her of murder."

They were about to walk away when the music started again, this time something more martial, with a faster beat, and Scarlett turned back to the door, looking through the small glass window through it…and gasped. Moments later, she had the door open.

They watched as Cam went through some sort of intricate dance. Not like the ballet dancing of earlier; she'd taken off her pink ballet shoes and put on the battered pair of black sneakers Hawk was used to seeing, and her twin swords were in her hands, flashing, shining arcs of steel on either side of her. The music was some sort of hard rock song, fast paced and dynamic, and she thrust, slashed, parried, in time to the beat. A dance, with swords.

Scarlett vanished, only to reappear a moment later with two of her own short swords, and stepped into the room. Cam automatically started to lower her swords, but Scarlett shook her head. "No. Let's see what you have."

They started out tentative; small movements, each watching the other. Scarlett mirrored some of Cam's balletic moves, Cam mirrored some of Scarlett's sword-strokes, and by the time that first song finished and another one started, they were moving almost in sync. Scarlett's swords moved a trifle faster, Cam's movement was undeniably more graceful, but there was harmony and beauty in seeing the two of them moving together.

The music ended, and Cam stopped, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat. Scarlett also stopped, breathing lightly. "Have you ever had formal training with swords?" Cam shook her head, and Clayton was forcibly reminded that she'd said she wanted to learn at some point.

"Good, so you don't have anything to unlearn. As soon as you're cleared for light duty and off the injury list, I'm going to start working with you. For right now, you should probably stop; you're exhausted."

"Aye-aye, Master Sergeant, Ma'am," Cam saluted her and sheathed her swords, and Scarlett turned and left the room, pushed past their little group at the doorway and disappeared into the dojo. He assumed she'd only gone to put her swords back on the wall, but when she didn't come back out Snake Eyes pushed open the door, walked in…and moments later they heard the lock click into place. They did that when they wanted to be alone, so Hawk made no comment as Cam joined them. 'How long were you standing there watching?' she asked quietly.

"Long enough," Allie told Cam. "My God, Cam, you're amazing. I took ballet lessons when I was a little girl at my mother's insistence, but I never had half the talent and grace you have. Your ballet teacher must have been thanking the ballet gods every night for sending you."

Cam burst into laughter, the first time Hawk had ever heard her laugh for pleasure, with no irony, bitterness or anger in it. It was a wonderful sound, and she looked…almost pretty. "I'm not that good."

"Yes you are," Allie said with perfect sincerity. "All right. Go ahead and get cleaned up, and we'll see you in the mess hall, okay? It's going to be your first meal with everyone, and I'm dying to get everyone to meet you."

"Yes, Staff Sergeant ma'am," And Cam took a diagonal tack across the gym, heading for the locker room. She was almost there when the corner door opened and the six recruits who were running drills through the halls earlier walked in and Cam came face to face with Walker.

Both of them froze. Cam's face went smoothly impassive and she sidestepped, taking a detour around him and walking into the girls' locker room after the two female recruits. Walker's face had twisted into a sneer of outright contempt when he'd seen her and it persisted on his face as he headed for the locker room after the other three male recruits.

Hawk blew out a breath. "Whew. Well, at least we know that if she happens across Broadview and Hilton when they're on base here, she'll follow orders and not escalate a confrontation."

"She's not a confrontational person," Allie said quietly. "But you're right, at least we know there won't be any trouble from that quarter. Or if there are, she'll stop it and defuse it, and not be the escalating cause."

"You know, at this point—I thought he was getting better with this attitude but he obviously isn't. Is he even salvageable, as a soldier? Can you see him fitting in here, can you see him working with you and Scarlett and Cover Girl?"

Allie sighed. "You want my opinion as Alison the woman or as Lady Jaye the soldier?"

"Both." He folded his arms.

"Okay. As Lady Jaye the soldier, yes, he's a good addition to our team. He's got the right skills, he's incredibly strong and aggressive and excellent working with others. As Alison Hart-Burnett, though, no. He's too aggressive and competitive and doesn't take kindly to being ordered by a female superior—no problems with male superiors but major problem with female superiors, and he's only a good team player when he's on an all-male team. He should have been on a football team, all guys, no girls, only male coaches."

"Have you had a chance to put him up against Cover Girl yet? See how he reacts to a woman at his rank or lower?"

"Yes, I met him." Cover Girl's voice was full of annoyance; Hawk could tell this wasn't going to be something he wanted to hear. "I was in the garage saying hi to my baby after I got back—for once he didn't get dented and dinged while I was gone—and I met the new recruit Walker as I was checking the progress on that new Jeep we're enhancing with the second skin armor over the hood and I was thinking about how to protect the louvers so we can increase airflow to the engine without compromising speed or safety—"

"Courtney." Allie stopped her. "Walker. What happened with Walker?"

"Oh. Walker. Well, I was looking at the new Jeep and he walked by, and he whistled at my ass. I'm used to it, have to expect it, really, but most of the guys on base know not to do that to me anymore, so I figured it must be someone new and I turned around and saw him. He looked at me and said something about me trying to grow some balls because I obviously hated being female and he'd give me tips on how to be a guy."

Clayton couldn't believe Walker would have been that rude. "What did you do?"

"I told him I was perfectly happy being female, and I didn't want balls if it was going to make me as stupid as it made him." Allie sucked in a breath, a sure sign she was trying hard not to laugh. "Then Beach Head came in, and he heard what Walker said to me and he told Walker that if he ever heard him say that to anyone, male or female, again, he was going to recommend that Walker be sent back to his detachment. What's the deal with him? And what's been happening while I was gone, I've been hearing whispers about a court martial, and it has something to do with the new girl Scarlett just sparred with in there."

"That is a very long story. I'll tell you before we go to diner." Allie grabbed Courtney's sleeve and yanked the younger woman along with her.

Hawk just shook his head and watched them disappear.


	13. Chapter 36: JAG

**Chapter 36: JAG**

In contrast to the (barely) restrained enthusiasm the assembled Joes had been suppressing when Clayton had gotten home, the reception given Colonels Hilton and Broadview and their JAG liaison was…decorous.

Stiffly decorous. The assembled Joes had all heard, by now, what Hilton and Broadview were supposed to have done, and they'd had a chance to meet and get to know Cam over the weekend. Doc released her to light duty, and she'd started light PT with the other new recruits as well as a few special sessions with Scarlett and Lady Jaye in the dojo. Although she took her swords with her into the dojo, Scarlett privately admitted to Hawk that they weren't working on her technique; she and Allie were doing some intensive counseling, following the same basic formula Liv had started; getting Cam to think through her experiences objectively, to rationalize the events that had happened and start coming to grips with the fact that it was not her fault. Cam had a great deal of pent-up anger about the whole thing, anger that Hawk understood perfectly; and after these counseling sessions Scarlet would drill her in self-defense and sword basics until they were both exhausted and Cam's anger had run out.

But getting out and about the base, meeting the others who lived here and letting them get to know her in return, had unified the Joes on her side. Doc had put her on a broad-spectrum vitamin and she was taking a course of purely preventive antibiotics, and although he'd seen Allie and Courtney fussing with Cam's hair, trying to find different ways to arrange what was left, Cam was wearing regulation covers to hide the damage and it just served as an unwitting reminder to everyone of what had been done to her.

Although no words had been spoken about the SERE-C training, and Cam herself had neither denied nor confirmed whatever rumors were swirling around the base to the seven other recruits, Hawk had felt the general mood shifting toward disgust and contempt whenever someone mentioned the incipient visit. Now, as Hawk stood toward the back of the garage bay with Cam, Allie, and Shana, he could see that while his people weren't violating the letter of orders to respect their visitors, no one was really trying very hard to obey the spirit of those orders. Knees were relaxed, not locked; eyes faced front but didn't show warmth or friendliness; shoulders were set and tensed.

Flint and Duke stepped forward and greeted the two colonels and the JAG officer; Flint spoke first. "Welcome to Joe Base, Colonel Hilton, Colonel Broadview, JAG Liaison Mitchell. I'm Warrant Officer Dashiell Faireborn, this is First Sergeant Conrad Hauser, we're second and third in command here after General Abernathy. We hope you'll enjoy your stay here. I regret to inform you that while General Abernathy is the commander of this base, to maintain the need for impartiality and fairness he is prohibited from speaking with you, so if you have any questions or concerns you may bring them to myself or the First Sergeant here and we will rectify any issues that may arise. And I do need to inform you that there will be some restrictions on your movements here."

Anger skimmed Hilton's eyes, but the JAG officer put a hand on his arm. "What restrictions, Warrant Officer?"

"Due to the fact that Staff Sergeant Alison Hart-Burnett and Master Sergeant Shana O'Hara will be handling your case, as well as Commissioned Private Alexandra Cabot, who will be arriving in two days, and Corporal Cameron Arlington is a material witness in the forthcoming court-martial proceedings, it's been decided that since you haven't brought female personnel with you to whom you should have access, the women's dorm areas will be off-limits, as well as General Hawk's quarters. The common areas of mess, recreation, and workout rooms, as well as the gym, are open to you; however, be aware that should one of the other parties involved in these proceedings be in the same room as you are when you enter it, they have been instructed to cease their activities and leave. You should make no attempt to speak to them, confront them, or in any way accost and refer to the case in their presence. Any violations of this will be reported to me and I will take appropriate measures, up to and including tighter restrictions and possibly confinement.

"We understand and will honor those restrictions. They seem reasonable enough, and fair to all parties concerned. I do have a question; who is Private Cabot? I haven't heard her name before in connection to the JAG office."

"Private Cabot holds a reserve commission in the US Army and with Lieutenant Johnson's approval will sit as co-Trial Counsel to Master Sergeant O'Hara. She obtained this commission in connection with a top-secret classified operation earlier this summer and as a currently licensed, actively practicing member of the New York District Attorney's office, Prosecution branch, holds all qualifications necessary to practice law. She also served three years with the International Criminal Court."

Mitchell blinked. "I would be interested in examining Private Cabot's credentials prior to the start of this court-martial, but pending that, if the Lieutenant General has examined her and declared her capable I will have no objections. Please show us to our quarters, so we can get settled—and Colonel Hilton understands that your Master Sergeant will be charging him under Article 134, and would like to meet with the Master Sergeant as soon as possible to discuss this rather drastic move."

"Absolutely. Company, dis-MISSED!" Flint ordered, and the assembled Joes filed out of the receiving bay and headed off to their respective duties. "Duke, would you show our guests to their assigned quarters please."

"Right this way, Colonels, Liaison."

"Scarlett? You ready?"

Scarlett looked up at the sound of Hawk's voice in the door of Cam's quarters. "We're getting there. Hang on." She looked at Cam, who was getting up from where she'd been sitting at the small desk, nervously wiped the sawdust and wood shavings from her fingers, and nodded.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine." On the opposite side of that table, Spirit put down his carving knife. "You are a child of the Haudenasaunee, and the blood of a thousand years of warriors runs in your veins. You can handle a couple of—"

Scarlett wasn't sure what the word was that Charlie used, but it sounded faintly derogatory. Whatever it was, it made Cam smile warmly at him, then square her shoulders and face Scarlett. "I'm ready."

Hawk waited until they were out in the hallway before asking curiously, "What was that word he used in there…what did he say?"

"Um." Cam blushed faintly pink, then looked up at him and her eyes acquired a slightly mischievous gleam. "It's a Navajo word that politely translates to 'stupid white man'. The actual meaning is somewhat more derogatory, it's more like—"

Hawk held up a hand."No, I don't want to know. I'm sorry I asked!" Cam laughed aloud, and Hawk chuckled with her, then sobered. "All right. Joking aside, are you ready for this? When Allie filled out the paperwork originally for Broadview you weren't there and it was excusable on account of the fact that you were recovering from emergency surgery, but you do need to be present for Hilton's preferral of charges."

Cam nodded."I'm fine. Charlie said neither you nor Lady Jaye would let them eat me, so I guess I'm safe. Hmm?"

Hawk chuckled with her as he wondered privately about the developing friendship between Cam and Charlie. Charlie IronKnife had always been slightly aloof; he was quick with a helping hand and a friend to everybody, but Hawk had never seen the big Navajo spend a significant portion of his free time with anyone until Cam. "So what are you doing in there getting sawdust in your room? You know Scarlett will check your quarters for cleanliness and neatness and if she sees all that sawdust and wood shavings you'll be scrubbing your own floor with a toothbrush."

"I know. Charlie told me. And Lady Jaye warned me—she told me once she went and bought this dress with glitter on it, and it shed shiny specks all over the floor, and Scarlett yelled at her about it and she spent the next day sweeping every floor on base."

"I remember that." Hawk grinned. "Cam, just remember that Scarlett is the highest-ranking woman on base and, as such, I pretty much leave her in charge of pretty much all things female. So she's technically your immediate superior."

"I know. I got it." Cam nodded. "She's tough, but she's fair. She and Lady Jaye have been spending huge amounts of their free time with me in the dojo and she even chased Snake Eyes out once when he interrupted by accident. She can be…very formidable."

"Formidable. Yes, she is at that." Hawk grinned. "How are you settling in with the other recruits?"

"Doing okay, I guess." Her face suddenly went impassive.

"You guess?" He looked narrowly at her, knowing from experience with her that when she put on that impassive mask it meant she was hiding something. "Corporal Arlington."

"It's nothing I can't handle."

Hawk took a guess. "Walker."

Silence.

"Cam. I figured it out. It's not rocket science, after all. I had Walker transferred to my base when he got drummed out of the SERE training program because he is a good soldier and does have some good skill sets, he just has completely regrettable tunnel vision about women not being as tough as guys and not willing to work with them because of that. I hoped that bringing him here and having him work with Scarlett and Lady Jaye would cure him of that…or at least knock some sense into his head."

"Well, it's not working." There was bitterness in her voice, and Hawk made a mental note to talk to Scarlett about what was going on between Cam and Walker as soon as he had the chance. Normally he would leave something like this up to her, but Cam was very good at hiding what she was thinking and feeling and it was hard to read her sometimes, and she had a stubborn streak that kept her from complaining about something until it was completely uncontrollable. It was understandable, given what he knew about her past; she must have learned very early on that complaining about something wouldn't bring any desirable results, so she just internalized everything, and that could have long-term consequences he didn't even want to think about.

Mitchell and Hilton were already seated in the briefing room when Hawk and Cam arrived, and Lady Jaye arrived only minutes afterwards. Neither side spoke to each other; Cam's face was impassive and Hawk simply put on the darkly brooding look that terrified all the new recruits.

Lady Jaye called the meeting to order and started a voice recording program on the laptop sitting in the middle of the table. "Staff Sergeant Alison Hart Burnett, of the classified military project known as G.I. Joe, calling to order these charge preferral proceedings. We're here to formally serve notice to Colonel Frederick Hilton, US Army Base Commander and SERE instructor at Camp Mackall out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina, that charges are being preferred against him as the result of a preliminary inquiry into the events surrounding the SERE training course conducted from August tenth to August thirty-first of this year. We are also serving notice to his co-accused, Colonel Thomas Broadview, US Army SERE Instructor at Camp Mackall out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina, that charges are also being preferred against him as a result of that same preliminary inquiry into the events surrounding the SERE training of the same period. Colonel Frederick Hilton and Colonel Thomas Broadview are present and have been assigned…" she looked expectantly at JAG officer Mitchell.

"Judge Advocate General Lieutenant Richard F. Mitchell," the man said.

"…to represent the accused. The charges are as follows. I will read the charge specifications against Base Commander Colonel Frederick Hilton first." She read the information she'd filled in on the charge sheet; there were only two, so they fit onto the single sheet. "In that Colonel Frederick Hilton, US Army, Base Commander and SERE instructor at the Special Warfare School based at Camp Mackall, North Carolina, knowing that Colonel Thomas Broadview, SERE Instructor at the Special Warfare School and a subordinate under his command, did commit an offense punishable under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, did attempt to order a subordinate of another command to cease and desist information-gathering procedures in an attempt to hide the commission of the offense."

She continued reading."In that Colonel Frederick Hilton, US Army, Base commander and SERE instructor at the Special Warfare School based at Camp Mackall, North Carolina, having knowledge that Colonel Thomas Broadview, also a SERE instructor at the special warfare school based at Camp Mackall and therefore a subordinate, did commit and offense; to wit, gross negligence and callous disregard for the health and safety of a SERE trainee, Corporal Cameron Arlington, RDD to the 75th Ranger Regiment out of Fort Benning, Georgia, under his direction, which same violation led to said trainee's near death, did wrongfully conceal such serious offense and failed to make same known to civil or military authorities at the time the offense was committed. The name of person making accusation for the following charges is Major General Clayton M Abernathy, Base Commander and head of the classified military Project G.I. Joe. Charge sheet is duly signed by Major General Abernathy, accuser, and investigating officer Staff Sergeant Alison Hart-Burnett. Accused will now sign and take receipt of formal charge sheet."

She cleared her throat. "We will now address the charges preferred against Colonel Broadview." There were several sheets attached to the formal DD 458; Hawk eyed them, seeing Alex's handwriting on several sections. And if Alex had written these…

"In that Colonel Thomas Broadview, SERE instructor at the Special Warfare school based at Camp Mackall, North Carolina, did, during the course of the SERE training held there between August tenth and thirty-first of this year, did cruelly maltreat Corporal Cameron Arlington, RRD to the 75th Ranger Regiment out of Fort Benning, Georgia, a trainee under his direction, by striking her in the lower abdominal area with sufficient force to cause severe internal hemorrhaging and structural damage to internal organs that required emergency surgery to correct; did also PT her to excess in 107 degree heat while ignoring prior medical reports that indicated excessive PT would be injurious to Corporal Arlington's health and safety; did place Corporal Arlington in full double shackles that restricted movement and then kicked her on the side of the torso; did utilize a dull knife to remove the Corporal's hair, which same led to the infliction of infected wounds to the back of the trainee's neck; and did then threaten to leave Corporal Arlington restricted to outdoor confinement for the duration of a Category one hurricane."

Now he knew why Alex's handwriting was on all of that paperwork. By rewriting each charge so that everything Broadview had done was covered under each one, it eliminated the possibility that Broadview could duck a charge and skate out from under even one of the offenses he'd committed against Cam. Being found guilty of even one of the charges would mean being found guilty of each act he'd committed against her.

"In that Colonel Thomas Broadview, US Army SERE instructor at the Special Warfare school based at Camp Mackall, North Carolina, during the course of the SERE training conducted between August 10th and 31st of this year, did by his callous and continual disregard for the health and safety of his subordinate, Corporal Cameron Arlington; to wit, PT'ing said Corporal in 107 degree heat when such was clearly contraindicated by her medical records of a preexisting medical condition; did inflict bodily harm upon said corporal by striking her repeatedly in the abdomen and causing severe internal hemorrhaging, did inflict lacerations to the back of Corporal Arlington's neck in the process of removing the corporal's hair with a dull knife and in so doing placed said corporal in immediate danger of her life multiple times and did disgrace and dishonor his character as an officer and a gentleman, which same seriously compromises his standing as an officer by displaying a lack of fairness, decorum, justice, and consideration for those placed under his direction."

Hawk really liked how Alex's mind worked.


	14. Chapter 37: Attack

**Chapter 37: Attack**

"Liv!"

He hurried across the motorpool bay, racing to intercept the two figures just emerging from the blue Mustang. Alex was carrying a small suitcase, but she was dressed in her military fatigues, the ones she'd acquired during Operation White Queen.

Olivia was moving slowly, carefully, and Clayton hurried to her and held the door for her as she got out. "Ugh," she grumbled as she slid out from behind the wheel."I'm glad I have this car and not something newer; the newer cars don't have enough space behind the wheel for—" she stopped speaking as Clayton grabbed her in a hug and then planted a kiss on her lips.

She grinned into his mouth and brought her arms up to hug him, returning the kiss with interest; he was taller than she was by some inches, so he could bend over the protruding bump in her middle. Out the corner of his eye he saw Alex dropping her bag and flying across the garage bay, flinging herself at Ettienne, and thought wryly, _He's going to be absolutely useless on duty until the court martial's over. But as long as I don't actually see him sneaking out of the women's wing, I guess I can turn a blind eye. Like Dash and Snake Eyes. _He returned his attention to the woman in front of him, breaking off the kiss long enough to say, "God, Liv, you're so gorgeous."

She grinned at him. "You still think I'm gorgeous when I'm so fat I can't see my own feet? I feel like I swallowed a watermelon." She suddenly made a queer face and placed a hand on her stomach. "A watermelon that kicks."

"Oh my God. You can feel…?" he reached down and placed a hand on her stomach.

"Here." She took his hand and placed it to one side of her stomach. He held his breath…and a moment later felt the tiniest flutter against his hand, and he looked up at her, eyes wide.

"Yep. That's August." She grinned at him.

"Wow." He was overwhelmed; he'd just felt his son kick his hand, a sort of 'Hello dad' from the womb. His heart ached at the thought that he'd probably not get to see the little guy that often, then he looked at Olivia and pushed his feelings aside. _She's had little enough love in her life and few guys who have kept their promises to her, including her own father. I'm not going to be one of them. I made a promise to her to take a hands-off approach and I'll keep it even if it kills me._ He gave her another quick kiss. _It just might, at that. _

"So did you just come here to drop Alex off?"

"Yeah. We both got off early today; she wrapped up her last court case and handed off a continuance motion to one of the junior prosecutors, Christina, and cleared her case schedule. DA Jack McCoy got a call from Lieutenant General Johnson, of all people, saying Alex had been called up on reserve and so he had to let her go, although I think she's going to have a heck of a time explaining why she signed on as an Army reservist and when it happened. And how she knows a Lieutenant General. It's going to be an interesting conversation. And my back is hurting from sleeping in the Crib last night and Don kicked me out early."

"You shouldn't be sleeping at the precinct. That bunk has to be hard on your back."

"We were working pretty hard on a missing child case; fortunately we found her. Dad brought her back this morning and turned himself in." She put a hand over her stomach and winced. "Clayton, before I leave, can I use a bathroom? And can I see Cam? I want to find out from her how she's doing—Shana and Allie have been working with her on her counseling and from what they told me she's doing fine but I'd still like to see her."

"Sure. You know your way around the base, so you know where the bathrooms are. And it's…" he looked at his watch. "It's about six now, she'll probably be in the yoga studio."

"Studio?"

"One of the workout rooms. Shana put a sign on it that says No Boyz Aloud and they've turned t into a girls' only clubhouse."

Olivia laughed so hard she nearly fell over and had to put a hand on his arm to steady herself. "How did the guys react to that?"

"Surprisingly, they're respecting it. It's turned into the only testosterone-free zone on this base. But they have appropriated another of the workout rooms and designated it No Girlz Aloud. The girls are respecting that too, so since they seem to have reached a truce of sorts, I don't feel the need to disturb the balance. Since the studio is usually empty in the early evenings, Cam chooses to take that time to dance."

"She dances?"

"She's an extraordinary dancer. I first saw her at Camp Mackall, and she told me then that she'd been looking forward to a career as a dancer before her aunt and uncle drafted her to make their kiddie porn. The only time I've ever seen her truly happy is when she's dancing and so when she started using the studio to dance I made it clear to everyone that she wasn't to be disturbed. Not that Shana and Allie and Courtney didn't hover around the door for a little while making sure that my 'do not disturb' edict wasn't violated."

"You guys are looking out for her."

"We look after all of our own, in every way possible. Even if she's here only on a conditional basis until her basic recruit period's passed, she's still one of ours. And my girls do like her."

"That's good, because I like her too." Olivia patted his arm. "Okay. You go on ahead and I'll see you when I come to pick Alex up at the end of next week."

He left her with a twinge of regret, wondering what it would feel like to be able to stay with her, to wake up with her beside him every morning, but if he wanted to do that, he'd have to give up this command, these people…and he saw Walker salute as he stepped around the corner, nodded back to the guy, and headed up to his office. He loved this command, these people, and Olivia didn't want to share August…the baby…with him anyway, so there was no point in being upset about something he couldn't change.

There was a mountain of forms on his desk to sign; copies of the court-martial forms, and a set of paperwork that Allie had filled out so they could get a Jag officer assigned to Joe base. He stared at it for a moment, thinking about how he'd have liked to get Alex posted here as a JAG officer—it would make Ettienne happy, negate the issue of fraternization that would raise its head even though precedents had been set by Allie and Dash, and solve the problem of him not having a legal eagle on his staff…but he wasn't sure if she'd like to leave the New York City DA's office for a classified underground military base and military rules and discipline…and she'd have to train and drill with the rest of them, too, and he really wasn't sure she'd like that…and he sighed and started filling the personnel requisition form.

He was about halfway through the stack on his desk when his desk phone squawked, and over a screech of static he heard Scarlett, of all people, and she sounded…he'd heard her sound like that only once, when Snake Eyes had been caught in the helicopter crash; panic and anger and a whole host of other emotions mixed into one howl. "General Hawk to the gym NOW!"

He dropped his pen, barely noticing as his chair went flying into the bookshelves behind him, and ran for the gym. It was down two levels, and he disdained the elevator in favor of using his legs, boots pounding the stairs. All he could think of was _Liv went down to the gym to see Cam before she left. Oh my God, what could have happened to her?_

He skidded to a stop at the open gym door and froze. There were too many people here, and too many weapons were drawn, and all of that faded into the background when he realized two things; one, Liv wasn't in the gym, and two, there were bloody smears on the floor. He gasped out her name. "Liv? Where is she?"

"It's not Olivia," said a woman's voice, familiar because it was Alex Cabot's, and unfamiliar because there was an edge of anger in it that he'd never heard from the blond lawyer before. He started at her, finally taking in the sight of the old police-issue pistol in her hand, the one that Olivia's NYPD commanding officer Captain Cragen had given her almost six years before, drawn, cocked, ready to fire and pointed at a figure curled up along the rear wall of the gym. "Olivia's gone to the infirmary with Cam."

"Then what…Walker?" Hawk finally identified the figure slumped along the far wall. "What the hell is going on?"

"Olivia walked in on Walker assaulting and raping Corporal Arlington," Alex's voice was steel and her gun never wavered. "She told him to freeze and not move until someone else got here and could take charge and instead he charged her. I heard her scream for help and I came in just in time to see him knock her to the floor, and I drew my gun and pointed it at him. He backed down and Liv ran for help, Shana—Scarlett—was on her way here and she had Charlie and Snake Eyes with her. Charlie called Doc and went with Liv and Cam to the infirmary, and I stayed here. If you have an MP on this base you'd better get him here to arrest this son of a bitch before I kill him myself." And Hawk had no doubt she'd do it, too.

"I called Stalker. He'll be here in a minute. Sir." Scarlett told Hawk—and her gun was drawn and pointed at Walker, too. And Snake eyes had one of his throwing stars out and aimed at Walker.

He nodded, then crossed the floor, took a deep breath, and bellowed at Walker, "Just what the hell did you think you were doing, soldier!"

Walker remained crouched against the wall, but he did lift his head. "Sir. Request medical attention, Sir."

"What happened?"

"S-she bit me, Sir—that Indian squaw bit me!"

Hawk was about to say something when Scarlett interrupted and said harshly, "She wouldn't have bitten you if you hadn't been about to orally rape her. General Hawk, sir…look inside the studio." She nodded to the 'girlz only' workout room.

Hawk stopped in the doorway and stared. The room was in shambles; two of the mirrors along one wall were shattered, slivers of glass lying scattered about the floor; there were dents in the wall plaster in a couple of places, where apparently something human had impacted, from the appearance of blood smears and droplets running down the wall; the floor was dotted with streaks and smears of blood also, and in the middle of the floor, a scrap of bloodstained white cloth, trimmed with lace; a woman's panties. He flinched as he thought of the last time he'd seen them; in the classroom before the start of the SERE S&E week. Cameron's panties.

Glacial fury rose in him as he turned back to the room, and Scarlett stepped back a pace, looking stunned at the cold rage radiating from him. Distorted with anger so deep there wasn't a word for what he was feeling at that moment, his voice shook as he addressed the MP who had just stepped into the gym and stared aghast at the scene. "Stalker."

No one had ever seen General Hawk this furious before, and no one wanted to dare his temper at the moment. Protocol. Protocol, right down to the last letter. Stalker snapped to attention and saluted. "General Hawk, Sir!"

"Get this piece of garbage off my gym floor. Put him in the brig. I'll send one of our medics to treat his wound…after they are done treating whatever injuries Cameron has." Stalker saluted and moved past Hawk to get the groaning Walker up off the floor. "Private Cabot."

Alex put the gun down, saluted. "Sir."

"I want a report on what you saw when you walked in. Before you do anything else. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir!" Alex saluted as she returned her gun to the back waistband of her pants.

"Get to it." She disappeared. "Scarlett. Snake Eyes." Scarlett stepped forward, face pale; Snake Eyes just stood there, silent and waiting.

"Recruit training, monitoring and assimilation is your responsibility. I want to see both of you in my office at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow morning to explain how this could have happened on your watch. Until then consider yourselves restricted to quarters. Dismissed." Both soldiers turned and left.

He stared in silent consternation at the scene. Broken mirrors, shattered glass…and blood smeared simply everywhere. _Oh Jesus. Why her, she's been through so much already…_ he noted with a distant part of his mind that a crowd of Joes gathered at the door to the gym, saw one face in particular. "Jammer."

"General Hawk, Sir!" Jammer saluted.

"Call Fort Hamilton, in Brooklyn. Tell Colonel Gold that we're going to need him to send a CID team here to collect evidence for a court martial."

"Yes, Sir."

"Clutch, Duke. Seal this room. It is off limits until the Criminal Investigation Division team gets here from Fort Hamilton and can process it. You will have to do without your gym for now."

"Aye Sir. Not a problem, Sir." Both men saluted crisply.

And then he gave in to the urging he'd been feeling since he'd first heard Scarlett's panicked voice on his phone and headed for the infirmary at a dead run.

The first thing he saw when he entered his infirmary was Olivia, standing beside a gurney next to a battered, bleeding body that had Cameron Arlington's face. "Cam. Cam, it's okay, honey, it's okay," Olivia was trying to soothe her, to calm her, but even Hawk could see that Cam was pretty far gone. He remembered the flashback she'd had when Lifeline had first tried to examine the fire scarring between her thighs; that flashback was a pale imitation of what he was seeing now. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused, and her screaming had nothing of the adult Cameron in it; her screams were of a child in terrible pain, terrified and beyond the ability to reason.

He stood mute, afraid that if she heard a male voice she'd start fighting. Olivia's quiet, soothing voice spoke to her, hushed her, reassuring her as if she were a child; gradually Cam quieted, stopped fighting Olivia's hand on her forehead, pushing aside tangled, blood-matted hair to reveal a deep laceration on her head that was bleeding profusely down the side of her face.

_Oh Christ. Goddamn fucking Christ._ Hawk now knew beyond a doubt where those bloodstains on the wall had come from. _Son of a bitch shoved her head into the mirror, probably gave her a concussion. Oh God, Cam. _Her leotard—she had been dancing—was torn all the way down her middle, the crotch ripped out as if by a powerful hand, which explained the tiny scrap of cotton and lace sitting in the middle of the studio floor. The pink tights on her legs were torn, ripped, almost shredded, and the light pink ballet shoes were stained and spotted and crusted with drying blood, utterly ruined.

"Don't you have any female doctors in this place?" Olivia's voice was still pleasant and soothing, but her words were angry.

"No. I only have three girls here permanently and almost no female recruits. Allie, Shana and Courtney go into the city for feminine appointments…and I just sign the reimbursement forms later."

"She's utterly traumatized. She's not going to let a male doctor touch her. I doubt we'll even be able to sedate her enough to look at her the way she is now, and since she has a concussion, sedation might not even be a good idea."

"There's not much else we can do, Liv. If you can slip her a mild sedative I can call Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn and have them send a female doctor out, but that will take time."

Silence for a moment. Then, "I have another alternative if you're willing to listen."

He was ready to grasp at straws if it would help Cam. "What is it?'

"Our ME, Melinda Warner, lives out here on Staten Island. I know she's off, and I'm positive she'll come and help. She's also experienced at doing medical exams and rape kits for uncooperative rape victims and trauma cases, and she's former Air Force, so she won't have problems with signing a nondisclosure agreement concerning this base."

Hawk stared at Cam. At Liv. At Doc, who just shook his head. "I can't treat her, General Hawk. Might as well give this a shot. And since you're going to court-martial the son of a bitch who did this to her, I don't see how having someone experienced at taking evidence for rape cases could hurt."

Hawk made a decision. "All right. See if she'll come. But she has to be willing to sign a nondisclosure agreement and she'll have to bring her medical credentials, service number and discharge papers with her so Allie can make copies for evidentiary proceedings."

"Got it. Can Shana come sit with her while I run out there in my Mustang?"

"Shana is confined to her quarters until I have a full report from her on how this happened. Allie is available, though." Courtney could run copies and perform Allie's administrative duties.

"All right. I'll be back as soon as I can. Tell her to start talking Cam through the flashback." And Liv disappeared.


	15. Chapter 38: Aftermath

**Chapter 38: Aftermath**

**Author's note: **Sections of this chapter are graphic and inappropriate for younger readers, but is somewhat integral to the story. If you feel this chapter violates the content/ratings guidelines, PLEASE contact me and let me know and I will rewrite or remove objectionable content. I doubt the very young are reading this quintet of novels; they are very detailed and heavily technical and looong and you have to have a pretty hefty attention span to follow the twists and turns so far—but I have gotten emails from some young adult readers and I am not out to pollute anyone's mind!

Hawk liked Melinda Warner the minute he saw her.

She hadn't bothered to dress properly, hadn't thought to put makeup or even a coat. It looked like as soon as she heard Liv's story she'd simply grabbed a backpack, shoved a lot of items in it, and got in the Mustang. Now she was here, running down the hall to the infirmary, holding a file folder with papers in it, and she barely stopped as she shoved the folder into Hawk's hand. "Here. Liv said you needed my credentials and my military paperwork. Go ahead and make copies. Where's the patient?" Without waiting for his answer, she ducked past him into the infirmary.

Cam had calmed down a lot since Liv left. Allie had been sitting with her, talking to her, getting her to think past her trauma and focus on where she was and how she was, and Doc had finally gotten close enough to her to slip a needle into the back of her hand and inject a broad-spectrum painkiller. With the pain in her body gone, Cam was slowly making her way back to the here-and-now.

"Hey, Cam." Olivia's voice was soft, coaxing. "I brought a friend of mine, her name is Melinda, okay? She's going to help you, she's going to check you out and make sure you're okay. Is that going to be all right?"

"Doesn't…hurt…anymore…" the whisper was a harsh rasp in a throat sore from screaming.

"You may not hurt anymore, Cam, but you could still be hurt." Melinda's voice was gently professional. "I want to take a look. Can I take a look?"

Quiet for a moment, then "Okay."

"All right." Melinda slipped on a pair of latex gloves, then leaned in to Doc. "Go ahead and note findings on that DD 2911 form. If we can talk her into testifying she can sign then, but I want to make sure we capture everything now. I don't want her to have regrets later."

Olivia took Clayton's arm and steered him out into the hallway. Only then did she allow herself to slump against the wall, scrubbing her hands over her face. "Oh my God I'm so tired."

"Yeah, and you have blood all over you," Clayton said gently, stepping close and hugging her. She relaxed against him, burying her face in his shoulders, and it was only after long blissful moments had passed that he felt her shoulders shake. "Liv…" He looked down, at her tear-streaked face, and just hugged her tighter. "Oh Liv."

"I hate this job sometimes. Oh God, I hate this job sometimes."

"I don't blame you. I don't know how you do it." He sighed. "Come on. You have blood on your shirt and I'm sure you'd like some clean clothes."

"I have to get back—"

"Uh-uh." He shook his head firmly. "Liv, in case you didn't notice, it's almost midnight. You're pregnant. I don't want you driving home this late at night. Since you have the weekend off…come on. We have guests at the moment but they were told not to come close to my quarters. So you can get out of those clothes, put on a clean shirt, and get some sleep."

"In your bed? I don't think sleep's going to be the first thing on your mind," she teased, but even he could tell her heart wasn't in it. And truthfully, neither was he. The blood and fury that had started the evening was wearing off and he was just suddenly tired. And he felt old.

"If you insist I'll sleep on the couch in the outer room of my private suite. But you're getting the bed. Don't bother to argue because you're not going to win. I'm the General here and my word goes."

Despite his brave words, he wasn't absolutely sure he could make LIv do something she really didn't want to do, but she gave in, which assuaged his ego. "All right. I'll spend the night." He cheered silently to himself until she added in the next breath, "but you're not sleeping on the couch. I want you right next to me."

_She wants me!_ A small part of his brain howled in happiness, but he firmly squashed that down and focused, instead, on finding something she could wear. Her shirt had bloodstains on it, so he took it and absently added it to his clothes as he gave her one of his off-duty casual shirts to wear, then handed her a pair of sweats and rolled the cuffs up for her. "Lie down now," and she meekly obeyed, staying on the far side of the bed until he got into a pair of sweatpants and stretched out on the opposite side of the bed, then she snuggled up close to him. There was silence for a moment, then she said, "I guess you also want to know what happened."

"I do. I was going to have you fill out an incident report tomorrow morning before you left. You're tired now and you're also pregnant, which puts a huge drain on your body so I want you to get some sleep first." For long moments there was silence; he was about to drift off into sleep himself when she started talking.

"I walked into the gym, and I didn't see anything at first, but then I heard a scream. A male scream. I saw the door across the room that said 'No Boyz Aloud' and I figured that was where Cam must be, but the male scream had also come from there and I couldn't figure it out at first. And then I opened the door, and I saw him…he'd been on top of her…trying to…to…force himself…into her mouth…and she had bitten him, not hard, but she bit him…and I saw blood on his penis…" Something about this was bothering her, and Clayton lay quiet in the dark, keeping his arm around her to lend her support while she tried to tell him what happened. "It was his scream I'd heard, she was barely sobbing, trying to crawl away from him and there was blood just running down her face…and he lunged after her, grabbed one of her ankles and yanked her back across the floor toward him, and he raised his fist to pound it into her face. I called to him…told him to freeze, to move away from her and I would call someone, but then he just got this look of absolutely insane anger on his face and he lunged at me. I screamed…I don't know what I screamed, I just wanted help…and suddenly Alex was there, and she had Cragen's old Academy piece in her hand and she ordered him back against the wall and asked me if I was okay, and I told her yes and went to Cam. She was lying still, I think she just passed out, stopped fighting once she knew help had gotten to her.

"I got up and I ran to the hallway and just ran right into Shana and Snake Eyes and Charlie. They took one look at me and ran into the gym with me, and Oh God, I'll never forget the look on Shana's face…if Charlie hadn't held her back she would have killed him herself. Charlie stopped with me next to Cam and checked her pulse and then he ran for the intercom and called Doc. Scarlett and Snake Eyes went to him and she just yanked him to his feet, with one hand—I don't think she even felt the weight, she was that pissed. She practically dragged him out of the studio, him whining all the time about his damn bloody penis…and she dropped him against the wall. Alex followed her, kept her gun on him, and Snake Eyes was ready with a fistful of throwing stars if he even so much as looked cross-eyed in Alex's or Scarlett's direction…and then Scarlett ran for the intercom and called you and you came." She snuggled closer, sounding sleepy now that she'd gotten the entire incident out. "I was so relieved when you came…I knew you'd help just like Fin did when I was at Sealview."

"You were at Sealview? What for?" Sealview, he knew, was a maximum security prison in New York for women.

"An undercover operation." She sounded exhausted, tired. "I went there a couple years back as part of an undercover operation to figure out who was raping the inmates—a little girl was there visiting her Mom and she got raped and her Mom was killed. Anyway I went undercover."

"Oh my God Liv…did one of the guards rape you?"

"It was the closest I'd ever come to it," she whispered. "His name was Lowell Harris…I think we had a brief conversation before…he took me down to the basement, where there were no cameras, and I saw this filthy mattress and he threw me on it—I fought him, managed to get away, but there was nowhere I could run to hide from him. And he beat me badly, then handcuffed me to a door and tried to force me to…tried to orally rape me."

And then seeing almost the same thing happening to Cam… "Oh God. Baby, I'm so sorry," he whispered, feeling his chest tighten as he thought about how that must have felt for her.

"I'm fine now. Went to counseling…Don made me go…for my PTSD. That's how I could tell that was what was wrong with Cam, and how I knew how to help her. I gave Shana and Allie some tips on how to work Cam through her issues and it looks like they've been helping." She turned to look at him. "Clayton…please don't get too mad at Shana and Snake Eyes. They reacted as well as could be expected; I'm actually surprised they didn't rough that guy up while they were getting him out of there."

"Liv…I'm not mad at them for their reactions. I'm upset with them because recruit training, evaluation, fitness and assimilation is their responsibility, and they should have seen the trouble signs between Cam and Walker way before this. This should never have happened. It never has happened before, we knew when someone wasn't going to fit in with us and they were dismissed back to their regiment before anything drastic happened. This time something slipped through the cracks and it was Cam who paid the price. And I'm upset on her behalf, I'm upset because she shouldn't have had to. She's been through enough in her life, God, Liv, thinking about her lying under all those men her uncle and aunt brought makes me want to go and shoot something.

"And here, the one place where she finally starts to feel safe and have friends and have a real life…here is where her trust is betrayed, and she's victimized again. And I'm terrified…the last time it happened she retreated to the woods to live with the Indians on a reservation for five years because she probably couldn't stand people anymore. What if she does the same this time…or if she takes her own life? The fire that burned her…she says herself, you heard her, that she didn't try to escape, she didn't want to live anymore. I don't know what I'd do if she tried again here."

Olivia thought that over in the dark for a moment, then sighed. "I'm not going to tell you that she won't, Clayton, because no one can be exactly sure of what they will and won't do in any given situation. I will tell you, however, that I don't think it's likely. She didn't have an 'out' last time; last time it was three years of not knowing where she was and having no meaningful contact. It's not the same this time. She's having flashbacks, yes, but she has friends here who are helping her, talking to her, she has the assurance that when something goes wrong you're there to restore sense and order. She's not alone, not isolated, not trapped. Shana and Allie brought you and her out to see Alex and I so I know she knows how to get off base if she really wants to, and that's not something that she'd forget. If it came down to that, Clayton, she'll go AWOL before she commits suicide."

"You think so?" AWOL he could deal with, Suicide…he couldn't. Not Cam.

"Yes. Now shut up and get some sleep." She punched him lightly on the arm, and then left her hand there, and it felt like his entire being was focused on that warn female hand on his arm as he drifted off to sleep.

He woke at the first sound of the base's wake-up call and snapped off the intercom so it wouldn't wake Olivia up. He slipped into his fatigues, brushed his teeth and gave himself a quick shave, then scribbled a quick not to Liv and left it on his pillow. _Sleep as long as you want. Wait here when you wake up, I'll ask Courtney to bring in a meal tray for you; I don't want you to run into any of our guests until you have your own clothes back. When they're clean and dry I'll have Courtney to bring them back._

He'd struggled over the last word before his signature, then thought _the hell with it_ and wrote _Love, Clayton._ He did love her; he just didn't know if she felt the same way about him; she hadn't said anything yet. He took a last look at Olivia, sprawled asleep on his bed, then locked down on his emotions and prepared to face the day.

He was going to go to the mess hall to eat, but he had to walk past the gym on his way there and at the sight of the yellow 'do not enter' tape strung across the closed door he suddenly had no appetite. He turned and headed to his office instead.

There were several messages waiting for him, little stickies stuck to his desktop. One was from Jammer: _Colonel Michael Gold's respects, and he'll have the CID team here at ten AM tomorrow morning._ The time stamp read last night. Good.

Another sticky, from Duke and Clutch: _Gym sealed. Awaiting CID team from Hamilton_. It was just like Duke to leave brief, succinct messages.

And then one written on a scrap of paper torn from a notepad—from the medical labs. Doc's writing_. Dr. Warner completed exam. Cpl. Arlington signed the forms to release the findings to a court martial authority. Arlington stable and resting comfortably. Dr. Warner noted something interesting about Arlington's prior medical condition. Gave Dr. Warner a bed in the infirmary for the night; she wants to evaluate in the morning._

Clayton was looking at it and shaking his head; how on earth had the base suddenly become host to half of the NYPD? But he understood; this had never happened before here at base, and God willing it wouldn't happen again, but in the meantime he was fortunate that there were all these people willing and able to help him solve this particular problem.

And then, on the desktop beside the stickies, he saw an incident report form written in Alex's handwriting; her account of the events of the evening before. And under that, Cam's medical.

He grabbed the medical report first, flipped through it. He skipped the photos and injury descriptions initially, found the page where the victim would describe the incident as it happened. It was written in the same hand that had filled out the prior medical, which meant that Melinda had taken Cam's statement. He wracked his brain, trying to remember military rules of evidence, and finally came to the conclusion that it was okay; it was still admissible.

_Patient was engaged in off-duty private physical activity in gender-specific area when approached by assailant. Patient ceased activity when assailant engaged in verbal conversation. Patient was responding when assailant attacked, striking patient in face with open palm, then with closed fist. Patient fell backward, then defended self with kicks and punches designed to deter, not to incapacitate or injure; patient states that at this time she considered it a simple assault and did not consider_ _escalation to be imminent, so patient screamed for help. Assailant attacked patient, shoved patient backward into tall mirror which shattered upon impact with back of patient's skull. Patient put up arms to protect face, which resulted in severe lacerations to the patient's arms and upper chest. Patient was by now bleeding and attempted to escape. Assailant tackled patient to the floor, grabbed patient's hair and forcibly impacted patient's forehead with floor. Patient describes brief dissociation, stunned and unable to coordinate gross motor functions; at this time the assailant ripped and tore patient's clothing off. Upon seeing patient's physical deformity assailant forcibly penetrated patient's vagina with fingers, resulting in tearing and slight soft tissue trauma; then turned patient over and forcibly penetrated patient's anus with his penis, causing tearing and trauma. Upon achieving ejaculation assailant tried to force open patient's mouth, intending an oral assault; at this time patient regained full consciousness and bit assailant's genitals. At this point witnesses Olivia Benson and Alex Cabot entered the area and the assault stopped, and patient passed out._

Hawk stared at the paper for long moments after he finished reading. _Walker beat the hell out of her, gave her a concussion, and raped her in practically every way you can rape a person. Jesus, Liv, I hope you're right about her not committing suicide._

There was another sticky on the back of Melinda Warner's medical report, in Stretcher's handwriting. This one was brief. _Walker attended to. Wound superficial. Short healing period. No further care necessary. _The time stamp read early that morning.

Hawk grinned unpleasantly. They'd followed his orders, all right; they apparently hadn't gone to take a look at Walker's injury until after Cam was treated and resting comfortably, even though Stretcher and Lifeline hadn't been required to help Dr. Warner. The delay showed Hawk what the prevailing attitude was on base regarding the incidents of the night before, and he was glad he'd put Walker in the brig. Not just because of what he'd done, but also because if he hadn't he'd probably have more bruises now than the ones Cam had put on him. As satisfying as that would probably have been, he didn't want the complication of Walker counter-charging whoever had been responsible.

And speaking of responsible…

As if on cue there were three polite, correct taps on his door; he put the report down, sighed to himself, then put that hard edge back into his voice as he said, "Come in."


	16. Chapter 39: Explanations

**Chapter 39: Explanations**

Scarlett and Snake Eyes stepped in.

The first thing he noticed was that both were wearing regulation fatigues; something they hardly ever did, Snake Eyes especially. He was used to seeing Snake Eyes in the ultralight black armored suit he usually wore, with accompanying mask; Scarlett was normally wearing something similar, in colors that suited her naturally red hair and fair, slightly freckled skin. Now both of them were wearing regulation fatigues in the new pixilated pattern some military genius had dreamed up a few years back, and Snake Eyes' face was uncovered, and both carried their regulation covers; not wearing them, which meant they were under disciplinary action. Both their faces were impassive, but Hawk saw dark circles of sleeplessness under Scarlett's eyes and knew she hadn't slept much the night before, if at all.

"General Hawk. Sir. Reporting as ordered." Scarlett spoke. Snake Eyes simply stood silently; they had worked together for so many years now, grown so close, they practically thought as one person, one being.

"Master Sergeant O'Hara. Master Sergeant Snake Eyes. Supervision of trainees is your responsibility; evaluation, fitness, suitability. What went wrong this time?"

"I don't know, Sir." Scarlett spoke levelly, but there was anguish in her eyes. "Permission to speak candidly, Sir?"

He nodded curtly. "Granted."

"Sir…I don't know. I swear there wasn't this level of hostility between them. I mean, they didn't like each other, they didn't speak to each other more than was absolutely necessary to train, and they didn't see each other socially once off-duty, but I never ever saw anything that could indicate something like this would happen. Since the last time I taught him a lesson, even when he didn't like it, he's toed the line. No innuendo, no derogatory remarks, no overt hostility that I could see. I never saw this coming." She glanced at Snake Eyes, who shook his head and signed a single brief word. No.

"No indications."

"None, Sir."

"Well then. As punishment, you are going to investigate this and find out how it happened and what led to it. Your duties as trainee supervisors and evaluators is now suspended; Staff Sergeant Hart-Burnett and First Sergeant Hauser will perform those duties until I am sure this will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

It wasn't only that they were responsible for the trainees and they should have been able to see what led up to this. Hawk's alarm rose from the fact that neither Scarlett nor Snake Eyes had seen this coming. Both of them were excellent at reading body language and subtle language and tonal cues; if there had been any indication that Walker was going to hurt Cam they would have known. Hawk was sure of it, as sure as he was of his own name. The fact that it had happened was likely making them second guess themselves, wondering what they'd missed, wondering if they were losing their edge. That kind of second-guessing could be dangerous for a soldier, especially a couple of elite field soldiers; second guessing themselves on the field could get them killed or others under their command. By making this incident's investigation their only task for the near future, Hawk would give them a chance to correct their mistake, to figure out what happened and regain their own confidence that it would never happen again.

"Start with this." He handed Scarlett the medical report that Dr. Warner had filled out. "Cam had a flashback so bad she wouldn't let anyone touch her. Olivia recommended that a female doctor look at here but we don't have any on base, so she went and grabbed the NYC Medical Examiner, Dr. Melinda Warner, to examine and collect evidence from Cam. Dr. Warner is former Air Force, and I got copies of her discharge papers, her credentials, and a signed nondisclosure agreement. She got Cam to sign an unrestricted report, so we can pursue the matter either on a military or civil level."

"Is she okay?" Scarlett skipped the report in favor of asking him directly, her green eyes anxious.

"She was brutally beaten and sodomized, most likely when Walker found out he couldn't…rape her normally. I was about to go down and see her, however; Doc said Dr. Warner found something interesting about Cam's prior medical condition and wanted to discuss it with her when she woke up, so Doc let her stay the night." And that reminded him… he leaned over the phone. "Corporal Krieger, please call the administrative office."

Moments later Courtney was on the phone. "Yes General Hawk."

"Could you ask Laundry for the clothes I gave them last night? They should be dry and clean by now. Once you have them, could you ask the kitchen for an extra meal tray and a cup of coffee, two sugars, and can you take it all to my quarters?"

"Uh…Oh! Yes. Sir." He could almost hear the click in her mind as she figured out the reason for his seemingly odd request. "I'll ask the kitchen to put little extra. She's eating for two, after all." Courtney hung up before he could chide her for her presumption.

He sighed. "That's taken care of." He looked at Scarlett and Snake Eyes. "Ed went and looked at Walker's bloody penis early this morning, says the bite's superficial and he'll heal without further medical attention necessary. So you two are welcome to go and see him later this morning. However, unless I miss my guess, a CID unit from Fort Hamilton is on its way here to process the gym for evidence, so I believe we should get there first." He thought. "Unless, Shana, you'd like to handle the information-gathering and Snake Eyes would like to handle the evidence gathering?"

And with that Scarlett relaxed. Hawk's use of her real name indicated that he was over being mad; and she understood the reason why he'd suspended their training duties. And she was itching to find out why it had happened herself. "I think I'll take your advice, General," she said, standing up. "I want to see how she's doing myself." Her voice sharpened. "And then I'll meet up with Snake Eyes and we'll go see Walker."

Since he had no interest in the evidence gathering—it was a moot point anyway, when two witnesses had literally caught him in the act—he went with Shana to the infirmary. He was afraid, when he got there, that Cam would still be caught in her knee-jerk reaction and be terrified of him, but she saw him hovering in the door and called out. "General Hawk, please come in."

Melinda and Doc were there, discussing something on a medical chart in low voices. Spirit was there, sitting in a chair on one side of her bed; Shana was now sitting in the other. Hawk stood at the foot of her bed and smiled down at her, although the smile was slightly forced at the sight of the bruises and swelling on her face, the ugly gash on her forehead, held closed now by butterfly sutures, and he didn't even want to see what the scratches and cuts she'd sustained on her arms and upper chest looked like under the heavy swath of white bandages. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Pain meds are a wonderful thing." She smiled wryly, and he was relieved to see that her sense of humor was coming back. Her next words banished it, however. "So you saw the report."

"Yes. Cam…Jesus, I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay. I'll survive. I've been through worse." There was nothing he could say to that; it was true, after all.

Melinda came over. "Okay. Everyone out, I want to talk to the patient."

Shana nodded, started to stand; Hawk started for the door, followed by Charlie, when Cam's words stopped them. "Charlie…please…Does he really need to leave?"

"Cameron, this is going to be a delicate conversation about some private things. I don't know if you want…"

"Please." Her voice was almost a whisper. "I just…I don't want to be alone."

Shana grabbed Hawk's arm and firmly yanked him out the door, then was about to close it behind her when the knob was pulled from her grasp and Doc himself came out.

"Melinda just wanted to talk to Cam alone, but this is going to have some impact on all of you, so I might as well tell you. Melinda says surgery can restore functionality to Cam's body."

It took a moment for that to sink in, and when it finally did Hawk felt his jaw drop. "You're kidding."

Doc shrugged. "I'm not an expert on female anatomy. I don't see women that often at this posting; Lady Jaye and Scarlett and Cover Girl rarely ever get badly hurt while out in the field, not like Alex earlier this summer and now Cam. So I'm inclined to trust Melinda when she says it's possible. According to her, it's not going to be that hard; what happened was that the top layer of skin on Cam's external surfaces burned, and when the scar tissue formed it pretty much just sealed everything under a layer of scar tissue. Surgically removing that layer will expose the inner labia and return her sex to its previous appearance. She'll be able to enjoy a physical relationship if she chooses. Now, she will have to go to a regular hospital and be operated on by a real feminine reconstruction specialist, but yes, it is possible."

And as if on cue, they heard a short, sharp sound from inside the infirmary. Not quite a scream, not quite a laugh, something in between, and when Hawk, Shana and Doc peeked through the wired glass they saw Charlie bent carefully over the bed, hugging a crying Cameron. Hawk stared for a moment, then looked accusingly at Shana. "Did you know about that?"

To his absolute annoyance, she was trying to hide a broad grin and failing utterly. "Yes. Allie and I both did. We've been trying to encourage it. Subtly."

"But…her past…"

"Clayton. There's no better cure for falling off a horse than getting back on it. She experienced something horrible and traumatic when she was younger, but she's an adult and part of the recovery we've been working on with her was getting her to develop relationships with men. Now, I will admit when we first talked Charlie into spending more time with her we were thinking primarily of just getting her to make friends. Charlie's Native American, and because they were the ones who helped her when she was eighteen and running scared in the woods, she's subconsciously associated 'Native American' with 'good' on some deep primal level, so it made sense…but Charlie really likes her, and she likes him, and before long they weren't spending time purely for therapeutic reasons, they were spending time with each other because they really were friends and they enjoy each other's company. If you'd been available we might have gotten your help because she relaxes around you too, but you're also her commanding officer and it wouldn't be a good idea. With Charlie there are no issues—they're even the same pay grade."

"Is she ready for this?" Clayton looked at Cam doubtfully through the door; she was now chattering excitedly to Melinda and Melinda was apparently explaining the process to her. There was life and animation in her; her eyes sparkled, and the hand that Charlie held gripped his tightly.

Scarlett got an unreadable expression. "Clayton. Apart from the scarring, she is a perfectly normal human female. She has all the same urges, desires, feelings, and needs that the rest of us do. Perhaps in the first year or so after she escaped her aunt and uncle's captivity she didn't give any thought at all to physical relationships, but the trauma wears off. Her problem is that with her physical condition, she doesn't consider herself as being attractive to the opposite gender and she has low self-esteem issues because of that. She doesn't see herself as being a 'whole' person, which is why she's so driven toward perfectionism in the other areas of her life. She's subconsciously trying to make up for that. With Melinda's surgery, she can—finally—be whole. It'll fix a lot of her emotional and psychological insecurities."

Clayton took a last look at the scene inside the medlab and smiled reluctantly. "She does look pleased. All right, let's let the doctors get on with their day." His voice, face and expression hardened. "Let's go talk to Walker."

Snake Eyes met them at the entrance to the corridor that housed the base's brig—three smaller living quarters down one end of what was now the men's hall. Hawk had originally used it fro a women's wing, and the quarters that Scarlett had lived in when she first came was now Walker's 'cell', but with the addition of Lady Jaye and Cover Girl the corridor had been full and Clayton had relocated the women's quarters elsewhere so he could add more women to his force later. The hall had mostly fallen into disuse, and had in fact been used for extra storage at one point.

Now it was being used to hold a prisoner.

"Took you long enough," Walker snapped as he got up from the bunk on which he'd been sitting.

"I wanted to make sure Corporal Arlington was all right before we attended to you. Now, explain just what the hell you thought you were doing!"

"You're not here to let me go?"

"Walker, after what you did there's no letting you go. I intend to try you by summary court martial and send you off to Leavenworth afterwards. For God's sake, you were caught with your pants down, literally, raping an unarmed off-duty woman in a restricted area! What makes you think I'd let you go after that?"

"She should have been pleased to have some male attention. I can't imagine she would have had many offers, the way she looks under her clothes."

Scarlett stepped forward, suddenly intent, her green eyes narrowed. "So you thought raping her would be a good idea, that she would welcome it?"

"She's such a frigid little ice bitch anyway. She needed a real man to show her how to have fun not the regular way. Once she tried it she'd like it."

"But you didn't show her. She resisted and you beat the shit out of her."

"I didn't mean to break all the mirrors and everything. If she hadn't fought me I wouldn't have had to hit her. I made her an offer, a polite offer to show her a good time and she refused. I mean, here I was offering to do her a favor, getting her first time out of her way and she throws it back in my face. When I grabbed her I just wanted to talk her into it. It's not like she would have ever gotten any other offers. I mean, she was pretty focused on training in Ranger school when we were both there but I never knew she was using that as a front to hide that deformed body from us."

Clayton was about to say something but Scarlett put a hand on his arm, and he realized she was getting something different from this conversation than he was. And since investigation of the incident was her priority…

Scarlett's voice was sharp. "Walker. You didn't know about Cam's scarring prior to the start of SERE training. You were drummed out of the training program before it started so you wouldn't have seen her strip-searched in the classroom or in the field exercises. And yet you knew about it before you walked into that studio yesterday evening. How did you find out?"

Clayton felt the blood drain from his face. Walker had never seen Cam undressed during the course of the classroom lessons, and he'd been sent packing before the field exercises started. The only people on this base who would have known were himself, Colonel Hilton, and… "Broadview."


	17. Chapter 40: Plea

**Chapter 40: Plea **

"Broadview. Either Broadview or Hilton. My money's on Broadview. Is that what happened, Walker? Broadview put you up to this?"

"N-n-no." But even Clayton could tell he was lying.

Snake Eyes moved so fast Clayton never saw it coming. Before he could blink one of Snake Eyes' ever-present swords was in his hand, sharp edge of the blade pressed against Walker's throat, dimpling the skin so deep that if Walker swallowed the simple movement would draw blood. Walker was already leaned back against the wall; there was nowhere else for him to go.

"Truth." Scarlett's voice was low and dangerous, the sound of a woman pissed to the killing edge. "I have no problems going to Miramar for killing you. Not after what you did." Miramar, Clayton's mind placed the name, was the US Armed Forces' prison for women in California.

"I—I—he said if I did something sexual to her I wouldn't get caught. He said she'd never report it. I didn't expect that brown haired bitch and the blond toothpick to come running in at the wrong moment, no one ever disturbs her when she's in there dancing and even the guys usually leave the gym so she doesn't feel like someone's watching. Broadview said she'd flashback so bad there'd be no calming her down and you'd have to get a shrink in to see her and no one would believe anything she said after that."

"He knew about her flashbacks." Scarlet sucked in a sharp breath. "When did he find out about those?"

"Right after they brought Hawk's team into the stockade. During the initial processing. He said she freaked out when he took pictures of her naked—he called it CPTSD."

"It makes sense. Oh Christ, it makes sense. She would have flashbacked to when she was locked in the basement and those pedophiles were taking pictures of her. Jesus." He should have seen it. The drained exhausted, spent, anguished look in her eyes. What kind of commanding officer was he that he didn't even see it in his own people?

"She had a flashback. In the interrogation room. And he recognized it as CPTSD, complex post traumatic stress disorder." She snapped to Snake Eyes. "Let him go. I want to go talk to Broadview and Hilton." She marched out of Walker's cell, and Hawk followed her numbly. No wonder Scarlett and Snake Eyes hadn't seen this coming. Walker had conspired with Broadview and Hilton to hurt Cam, to deliberately attack her. For what? To drop the charges? She wasn't the one preferring charges, Hawk was. To keep her from testifying? Even if she said she didn't want to testify, to press charges, they didn't need her. Allie had signed and sworn statements from their training team, Camp Mackall's CMO Colonel Potter, and three guys from the 82nd Airborne.

Snake Eyes stopped her with a hand on her arm, signed something to her rapidly, his hands moving too fast for Hawk to follow. She looked at him for a moment, then nodded and marched to the wall intercom. "Private Cabot to Briefing Room."

"Alex?" Hawk asked her as they resumed their walk toward the briefing room. "What do we want her for?"

"I want to let her know what happened. I want to know if we can get Broadview on conspiracy and witness tampering. And I'm wondering if we can add premeditation to some of those charges."

"Premeditation?" Hawk rolled his eyes; he was starting to sound like an echo. But all this legal jargon was hurting his head; give him a solid target and something to shoot at, that worked out a whole lot better for him.

Scarlett was already marching down the hall; he had no choice but to quick-march after her until they got to the briefing room. Alex was waiting already, dressed in fatigues, and she apparently hadn't forgotten her military etiquette; she stood and saluted as the three of them walked in the door.

"We have a problem," Scarlett snapped crisply as the four sat down around the table. "Walker attacked Cam last night in an attempt to derail the court martial."

Alex's mouth fell open. "You have to be kidding me," she said when she could speak again. "They conspired to try to get her to not testify? Does the UCMJ say this is a chargeable offense?"

"Yes they do and I wanted to talk with you about appending charges of conspiracy to their list of offenses, both Broadview's and Walker's, and I wanted to ask you if we should try Walker along with Hilton and Broadview, since all of their offenses are wrapped up together. I went to question Walker this morning about what happened last night. He said he made an offer to her sexually because, he said, 'with her physical deformity she can't have gotten many offers'."

"Oh my God, that son of a bitch. Isn't that sexual harassment?"

"Yes it is, but that's not the point. Alex, he admitted that he never once saw her naked while they trained and served at Fort Benning. According to Clayton, he was drummed out of the SERE training before the students were told to strip in the SERE classroom at the start of the training exercises. He would not have known about her burn scars unless someone told him. And the only three people on base who could have possibly told him was Hilton, Broadview, and Clayton. And we know General Hawk didn't."

Hawk could see the gears turning behind Alex's eyes. "Go on," was all she said.

"Walker said Broadview said she'll never report it. He said, and I'm going to quote his exact words here, 'Broadview said she'd flashback so bad there'd be no calming her down and you'd have to get a shrink in to see her and no one would believe anything she said afterwards'."

"Wait. Wait. How did Hilton find out about her flashbacks?"

''When trainees are 'captured' from the woods at the end of the S&E week, they're physically photographed during 'intake'. This is so that if they really aren't in any shape to continue with the resistance portion they can be medically excused—and it's also a chance to record whatever injuries they may have so reviewing authorities will know that any injuries sustained after those pictures were taken can be attributable to the instructors techniques. It's supposed to help with accountability."

"Which in Cam's case is completely superfluous because she has hypopigmented scars and bruises don't show. So what happened?"

"The intake process requires that the subject be photographed nude and Cam apparently had a flashback while Broadview was taking pictures. Broadview told Walker she had CPTSD, complex post traumatic stress disorder."

Light dawned over Alex's face; and with it, an expression of loathing and horror. "He _knew_ that she had flashbacks. He identified her condition as complex post traumatic stress disorder. If he had evidence right in front of him that continuing with the SERE training after that point could be injurious to her health, mentally, is he criminally liable for choosing to continue her resistance training even after it's contraindicated?"

"Yes," Hawk said tightly as he saw what Scarlett had already seen and was so pissed over. "The moment she had this flashback Broadview should have stopped the training, brought her aside and made her comfortable and alerted Hilton that there was a problem. Hilton should have then referred her to Colonel Potter, as the base's CMO, and training would have ceased."

"But he didn't. Can we question Hilton alone, without Broadview, find out if he was told about Cam's flashback? If he wasn't told then Broadview deliberately and willfully withheld that information and what he did now borders on deliberate torture."

"Yes, we can talk to him alone." Scarlett rose from her chair, went to the wall intercom and flicked the switch. "JAG Officer Mitchell, please bring your client Colonel Frederick Hilton to the briefing room."

If either Mitchell or Hilton was startled when they saw Scarlett, Snake Eyes, Hawk, and Alex they didn't show it. "What's this about?" JAG officer Mitchell asked. "And who's this?" He indicated Alex.

"Private Alex Cabot, assistant trial counsel to Master Sergeant O'Hara."Alex rose, as etiquette required, and saluted, then sat down.

"I don't know how much of what happened last night you're aware of. One of the other SERE trainees, Anthony Walker, who was dismissed from the program prior to the start of the S&E week attacked Corporal Arlington last night, beat her brutally and raped her."

Hilton went pale, his face draining of all color. Hawk wasn't absolutely sure, but he believed Hilton's shock was genuine. "Oh my God. Is Corporal Arlington okay?"

"She is currently sedated in our infirmary awaiting surgery to correct her injuries. She sustained massive blood loss when Walker smashed her head into a mirror, slammed her forehead into a floor, then took advantage of the resulting concussion to sexually violate her as she was unconscious." Alex painted the entire picture for Hilton as baldly as possible, not pulling any punches or trying to soften it, although Hawk noticed that she didn't specify which injuries she was looking at surgery for. Let Hilton think it was this attack; Hawk didn't care if it made him feel guiltier.

"Is this why you called us here? To inform us that there will be a delay? I don't mind the delay, oh God, I'm so sorry this happened to her…" Hilton was genuinely sorry and shocked; Hawk believed it and from Scarlett's and Alex's faces, they believed him too.

But when Alex spoke, her voice was still hard. "Corporal Walker informed us that he and Colonel Broadview conspired together to disrupt these proceedings. Colonel Broadview was aware of Corporal Arlington's emotional vulnerabilities and revealed this information to Corporal Walker, who then utilized the information to plan and commit an attack designed to exploit those vulnerabilities and render her incapable of reporting the attack and of participating further in these proceedings."

"What vulnerabilities? What are you talking about?" Hilton leaned forward.

"Did Colonel Broadview tell you that Corporal Arlington suffers from CPTSD?"

"I—no, it wasn't in her medical file, I wouldn't have known to tell him. If I saw it in her medical file I would have discharged her from the program." Hilton's eyes narrowed. "If I didn't tell him, and it's not in her medical file he wouldn't have known. So Walker has to be lying."

"Were Colonel Broadview and Corporal Arlington left alone together at any point during the SERE training?"

"I—I was…" Hilton's forehead wrinkled as he tried to think."Maybe when…when Colonel Broadview was bringing Team B in. I was interrogating one of the members of Team A and running him through stress positions and after that I found Broadview had brought team B in. I ran into him in the hallway with Arlington shackled and under guard."

"Did she seem stressed, nervous, anxious, or odd in any way?"

"Um…no, she was quiet, her face had that mask-like impassive look she gets, but now that I think of it there were tears on her face. I wondered, but it's not that unusual—a lot of women break when they get through that phase of the resistance lab."

"Broadview did not attempt to explain anything, or inform you of anything unusual that may have happened?"

"I—no—look, what's this about? Why are you asking all these questions?" Hilton was becoming belligerent and Hawk decided to end it.

"Corporal Arlington was a victim of intense child sexual exploitation from the time she was fifteen until she escaped when she was eighteen. In those three years she was kept locked in a basement and the only human contact she had was when her aunt, uncle and the people they pimped her out to came to sexually molest, abuse and take pictures of her. That's where she got those burn scars from; she set fire to the house she was imprisoned in intending to die in the fire; it was pure luck that she escaped. As she was wandering the woods of western New York delirious with pain and half her body burned she crossed the border onto the Iroquois reservation and they took her in and helped her recover. When she was recovered she expressed a wish to join the tribe and they allowed her in."

"According to Walker, Broadview informed him that Corporal Arlington had a flashback in the interrogation room when my team was processed on intake, apparently triggered by Broadview's attempts to photograph her nude as part of the course. The flashback was intense enough for Broadview to identify Corporal Arlington's mental state as complex post traumatic stress disorder but he did not cease the training and inform the CMO. Instead he took her out and PT'd her to exhaustion—I assume that took care of any lingering traces of the hallucinatory flashback…and resumed training without informing anyone that it had ever happened." Scarlett folded her arms, her face hard and unforgiving.

"No. No, oh Jesus, I didn't know." Hilton looked like he was about to faint. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry—I knew Broadview didn't like her but I never once thought he'd take it to these extremes. I did chide him once about being excessively hard on her in particular, and your" he nodded in Hawk's direction, "…team in general, but I always thought that he wouldn't act on his dislike because there were other people around. It never even occurred to me." He buried his face in his hands, then ran his hands through his hair. "Oh God, what kind of commanding officer am I that I didn't see this happening on my own watch?" He looked at Mitchell, eyes wide. "I want to plead guilty."

"Now, Colonel, let's think about this before you do anything hasty. If you plead guilty you can be sentenced to whatever penalty the court martial deems fair without giving a special court martial panel a chance to hear your side."

"No!" Hilton lashed out verbally in an agony of remorse. "No, I want to plead guilty to the charges. I deserve whatever they want to do for what I did. I didn't try to rein Thomas in; he was a friend and we had never had this problem before and I attributed the whole thing to his dislike of Asians because his father died at Pearl Harbor. I never even paid attention to what he was doing, I trusted him to not let his personal dislike get in the way of his work. I deserve whatever sentence they adjudge for what I did." He looked up at Scarlett, eyes wild. "I want to plead guilty. I'll sign whatever I have to sign. I'll go to jail. I'll go to Leavenworth and not complain if that's what the judge decides. Just…oh God... What did I let Thomas do to that poor girl?"

"Easy, Colonel Hilton." Alex shook her head and her voice, while not soft, had a note of sympathy in it. "The court will take into account the fact that you have voluntarily admitted your guilt and showed remorse. Are you willing to testify against Colonel Broadview as to what happened between you two, what you knew and didn't know at what points during the training, and are you willing to have that testimony admitted and read at the court-martial?"

"Yes. Yes. Whatever you want. Oh God. I'll write a full report, all of it and sign it and I'll read it. Oh God. Please tell me she's going to be okay."

"We hope so. For Broadview's sake I hope so, because we could so easily right now slap him with an attempted murder charge. He deliberately ignored her medical reports and the evidence of his own eyes and forced her to continue with training that even under ordinary circumstances was thought to be excessive and cruel. Knowing that he knew about her CPTSD before he even commenced her resistance training borders on sadistic abuse and there is no possible defense he could mount to that."

"Colonel Hilton, I m hereby restricting you to your assigned quarters for the duration of these court martial proceedings. Your meals will be brought. You will have no communication with anyone other than JAG officer Mitchell until you hear the judge's decision. That includes your co-defendant Broadview. In the meantime," Scarlett said, turning to Mitchell and realizing for the first time that the young JAG officer looked like he was about to faint too, "I am adding conspiracy charges to Broadview's sheet. Corporal Anthony Walker has been confined to the brig since he was discovered in the act of raping Corporal Arlington last night and conspiracy, assault, and rape charges will be levied against him. Will you accept a position as his defense counsel or will we need to petition the JAG office to send someone else for Mr. Walker? Before you answer, let me inform you that after what half the base witnessed last night, no one here will consent to act as Anthony Walker's defense counsel on the grounds that they will not be able to provide fair, unbiased advice," Scarlett said firmly.

"I…believe we will need to petition the JAG office for additional defense counsel personnel."

"So noted. I'll attend to it when I call Lieutenant General Johnson later today to apprise him of this turn of events. In the meantime, would you like to change quarters so that you do not come in contact with Broadview? You will not be put in the brig; Walker is in there and you'll understand that after this fiasco I want to keep the three of you separated as much as possible." Hawk stood.

"Change of quarters would be appreciated, General Hawk. Thank you. I'll go and prepare my guilty plea and my testimony." He stood, headed for the door with Mitchell following, then paused. "Please…please tell Corporal Arlington…I am so sorry."

"I will." Alex's voice was gentle. Hilton nodded once, brusquely, and left without another word.


	18. Chapter 41: Broadview

**Chapter 41: Broadview **

They were much less gentle with Broadview when Mitchell brought him in.

Stalker, as their MP, came to the briefing room and escorted Hilton and Mitchell to Dash's office, where Lady Jaye would take care of where to put him. Hawk waited with Scarlett and Alex; Snake Eyes stood stonily in the corner; Hawk thought about dismissing him but after one look at the hooded rage in Snake Eyes' face, he decided against it. For both Scarlett and Snake Eyes, Cam's attack had offended them on a very deep, personal level; they were responsible for the trainees, and even though they were now absolved of the guilt of not having properly supervised the trainees and allowed this to happen—there was no way anyone on base would have thought to monitor Hilton and Broadview's conversations with anyone on base not involved in the court-martial. The thought that a career soldier and professional like Broadview would have stooped so low as to get someone who was not involved in the case to disrupt a court-martial proceeding, and then the person and the form of attack used…it was reprehensible to each one of the Joes in that room.

Broadview strode in as if he hadn't done anything wrong, then seated himself after a brief, barely-polite salute to Hawk. Hawk thought to himself, as he debated whether or not to call the other man out for breach of etiquette and disrespect of a superior officer, that Broadview's attitude seemed…arrogant, almost smug; if they had any lingering doubts as to the truth of Walker's story, Broadview's behavior banished them. He acted like he was expecting to hear that the charges had been dismissed and the court-martial was being dissolved. Apparently Mitchell hadn't told him the substance of their conversation with Hilton.

He was going to get a shock.

Scarlett was the first one to speak. "At approximately nineteen hundred last night Corporal Cameron Arlington was accosted in a gender-restricted portion of the gym by Corporal Anthony Walker, who made an unwelcome and inappropriate sexual advance. When Corporal Arlington rebuffed him, Corporal Walker assaulted her, rendered her unconscious by bashing her head into the wall and the floor, and then raped her."

"Oh my God, that's horrible. Is she okay?" But even Hawk could tell his heart wasn't in the sentiment.

"She is looking at surgery to correct her injuries. However, a much more serious issue came to our attention. Corporal Walker informs us that he did so at your behest, that you and he conspired to assault and brutalize Corporal Arlington in an attempt to break up these court martial proceedings."

"I have no idea where he would have gotten that idea. I had absolutely nothing to do with this."

"Really." Alex leaned across the table, her blue eyes glacial. "Then explain how Walker knew about her physical deformity when he had never seen her nude at Fort Benning, and how he knew about Cam's CPTSD. He's been here for a month, and Cam's been in the infirmary when she wasn't training and our people have been working on her therapy privately. There are exactly seven people on this base who know that she suffers from CPTSD and none of those seven people would have told Walker about Arlington's emotional vulnerabilities."

"They're both trainees here, she probably told him when they were training."

"She did not. Try another one."

"Did you get that from her? She probably just didn't want to tell you. Secrets and lies, she likes those. She's sneaky."

Scarlett's voice was tight. "Colonel Broadview, female trainees here are _my _responsibility. Their training, evaluation, supervision, and assimilation fall under my job description as the senior female officer here. Snake Eyes, here," she indicated Snake Eyes still sitting silently in a chair in the corner; Broadview started visibly, either from the scarred face or the fact that until then he hadn't even known the ninja was there, Hawk didn't know, "—is the male recruits' supervisor. He monitors them, and we consult regularly and even switch recruit groups so that male recruits can get used to female commanders and female recruits can get accustomed to male commanders. We were made aware of the circumstances by which these two recruits met by General Hawk and have kept a closer eye on both as a result. We are therefore certain she would not have told him."

"Colonel Hilton—" Broadview was starting to crack just a tiny bit.

Alex interrupted him. "We have already spoken to Colonel Hilton, and his reaction when he was told what happened last night is genuine. He did not know of her CPTSD." She leaned in. "Let's stop beating around the bush, Colonel. You told Walker about Cam's CPTSD. You told him that you saw Cam have a CPTSD-related flashback in the interrogation room at Camp Mackall, and you told him specifically that if he attacked her sexually she would flashback and then her testimony would not be admissible because her mental health and competency would be in question. We are adding charges of conspiracy and accessory to your charge list, and Corporal Walker will be charged alongside you for conspiracy, aggravated assault, rape and battery."

"But you can't continue the proceedings without her." Broadview sat back, folded his arms, not bothering to hide his smug smile.

"Yes we can, because she was not the one making the complaint and pressing the charges. General Hawk is." Hawk had to hide a grim smile of vicious satisfaction as the smile disappeared off Broadview's face. "She was initially reluctant to go through with this, if you must know; and when we found out about her CPTSD we planned on her possibly being absent for some parts of the trial. General Hawk is fully cognizant of the charges and Arlington's testimony and as she also provided written accounts, of both the incidents which took place at the SERE-C training and last night's vicious attack on her; and as it looks like she may be unable to participate as she is facing surgery to correct her physical injuries. However, since she is not the one pressing charges, she is not absolutely required to be present. If the defense counsel needs to ask any questions, we can have someone standing by with video-conferencing-ready laptop by which to communicate." Alex folded her arms, and her voice assumed the smugness that was now wiped off Broadview's face. "You cannot make her disappear, Colonel Broadview, it's not going to happen. She's not going to suddenly vanish off the face of the earth and let you get this court martial dismissed, and any further attempts are simply going to result in more charges laid on you."

Hawk spoke. "You will understand, Colonel Broadview, that after this fiasco you are not going to be allowed to roam my base freely. Not just because I want to prevent further attacks and attempts at intimidation on Corporal Arlington, but also because nothing like this has ever happened at my base, and when my soldiers hear of it, even those who don't know Corporal Arlington personally, they will not like you. And they will express that dislike." Not that any of his officers would assault the son of a bitch, no matter how satisfying that might be in the short-term—but there were ways of expressing dislike for someone that went beyond the physical and the obvious and Hawk knew Broadview would become well acquainted with those methods if allowed to roam around the base. "You will be restricted to your assigned quarters for the duration of these proceedings. As it is now noon Saturday and the military judge will arrive on Monday, the court-martial will hopefully wrap up on Friday and I can get you off my base!" Hawk didn't even bother to try and mask his anger on the last word. "Until then you will have no contact with anyone on this base except your JAG defense counsel. Your meals will be brought to your quarters. Our MP will escort you to the gym if you wish to work out a couple hours a day; we will arrange for the gym to be empty at this time for your convenience." Hawk gestured curtly. "Stalker. Get him out of here. I don't want to see him again unless it's absolutely necessary."

Alone in the briefing room now with Scarlett, Alex, and Snake Eyes, he scrubbed a hand over his eyes wearily and then looked at his people. "I'm so sorry I dragged us all into this."

'"Don't be silly." Now that the target of her anger was gone, Scarlett looked just as tired; the circles under her eyes were darker. "What happened to Cam during the training was unconscionable; Lady Jaye and I were probably some of the first few women to go through Ranger qualification school when Ranger support wasn't even open to women yet and neither one of us had it that bad. And I guess it was even worse for Cam with the memory of what happened to her at her aunt and uncle's hands." She rose from the table. "Come on, Alex. We have to start filling out charge sheets for Walker and amending Broadview's and that's going to take half the afternoon."

"And you'd better go find Liv," Alex looked at Clayton, slightly amused.

"Oh! Liv!" He'd completely forgotten about her. "I completely forgot about her, I didn't want her to run into Broadview and Hilton and Mitchell while she was here so I told her to stay in my quarters. I hope she's not pissed."

"Actually, the last time I saw her she and Courtney were heading for the garage. My namesake has been making what Liv calls 'funny noises' and I knew Courtney was just dying to get her hands under that Mustang's hood."

And that was exactly where Hawk found Courtney and Olivia; in the garage bay with what looked like every screw, nut and bolt in the engine spread out on the floor and a song with a pounding rock beat blaring from a radio sitting in the corner. Hawk looked at the tangled mess of machinery on the floor, the partial engine block still hanging from the engine hoist in the middle of the garage floor, and then at the half-a-person sticking out from under the front of Olivia's Mustang's gleaming chrome bumper. Courtney, he identified; she was in shorts and those incredibly long legs of hers were unmistakable.

Olivia herself was sitting in the front driver's seat looking slightly bored. That look vanished however, when she saw Clayton, and again he felt that peculiar sense of 'rightness' as she wrapped her am around his waist. He wanted to kiss her, but he had the feeling that Courtney wasn't quite as oblivious as she looked, so he settled for a quick squeeze of her hand. "What's all this?"

"She was making some funny noises and my mechanic said he couldn't find anything wrong, so Courtney offered to take a look at her. It was a good way to pass the time while you and Alex were busy with court-martial stuff and Melinda is working out details with Cameron."

"Working out details?"

"The reconstructive surgery that could fix Cam's body—at least the part she and Charlie want to have working so much—can't be done here on base, Clayton, she's going to have to go out to Staten Island University Hospital. Doc offered Melinda the base's phone and she called a friend she knows over there, and they worked it out. Doc said he'd take a bunch of forms to Allie and ask her if you'll sign them so that Cam can get off-base medical services." She looked hopefully at him.

"Of course I'll sign them. When I first saw what she looked like back there in the SERE classroom at Camp Mackall I was speechless; I couldn't imagine how someone could have been burned that badly and no one tried to help her. It wasn't until she told me that she refused the Iroquois' repeated offers to take her to a 'white man's hospital' that I understood why she looked like that—and then I understood just how thoroughly her aunt and uncle's abuse and exploitation really hurt her. She was willing to accept what she thought was lifelong deformity rather than take the chance that she would end up back in their hands again."

"I understand. Maybe better than you do. Clayton, I want to show you something, but you have to promise never to tell her you've seen this, and don't tell anyone else either." Olivia led the way toward the back of her car and popped the trunk, taking a battered tote bag out of it and extracting a manila folder. "The first time I saw Cam I thought she looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen her. When she told us about her past, about the fact that she'd been held prisoner for a ring of pedophiles that I realized where I'd seen her before and I went looking in some old case files. Social services files are usually sealed but since my unit works with child cases we have a little more leeway than most, and it helps when one of my co-workers, John Munch, was the one who worked this particular case." She handed him the folder.

He opened it…and his mouth fell open at the child's photo stapled to the top right corner of the first sheet of paper. "_Cam_."

Olivia pulled him backward, unresisting, to a chair and pushed him down into it. "Correct. Cam when she was thirteen. She came to school with bruises on the back of her legs; her teacher's report to social services was that she could hardly walk. She refused to take her clothes off in front of the nurse, but when John got there he talked Cam into pulling up her pant cuffs and he saw this." She pulled another photo out of the folder.

Long, slender legs, well muscled but without an ounce of fat. A dancer's legs. And there were parallel stripe-shaped bruises across the backs of the calves and knees. "Jesus. What did that?' he thought about Cam's legs, clad in those black yoga pants she liked, dancing in the barracks at Camp Mackall.

"A metal yardstick was the examining pediatrician's guess, but she refused to confirm and said that she'd fallen on a ladder and marked her legs up. Social services removed her from her aunt and uncle's for the weekend, but returned her the next week for lack of evidence."

"Why didn't she tell you what was happening? Liv, oh God, if she'd told you her aunt and uncle were beating her you guys would have taken her away and she would never have been locked in a basement for three years, never set that fire, never have gotten burned. She'd be on a stage now dancing to applause every night and touring the world."

"Clayton, children who are abused rarely find the courage to tell on their abusers, particularly when they were as isolated and lonely as Cam was. She was raised on a military base overseas and life for her was different than it was for the other kids in her school classroom, and because of that difference she didn't have friends. Her dancing was all she had—her teachers wrote reports of her sneaking into the gym while the other kids were out at recess and just dancing all by herself. They tried to put a stop to it because they didn't want her in there alone, but one teacher, the one who finally made this report—arranged to eat her lunch in a classroom across the gym so that Cam wouldn't be unsupervised but still be alone. You have to understand—for Cam, dancing was all she had, it was her life. It got her through some of the worst experiences a human could ever have and helped her keep her sanity when stuff like this was going on." She opened a second folder and handed it to him.

Revulsion and disgust swept through Clayton, and he closed the folder, the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to digest the image on that photo, an image now unfortunately burned indelibly into his mind. He'd never look at one of his guys smoking a cigarette again in quite the same way. "That…is what the people her aunt and uncle brought to her basement did to her?"

Olivia said quietly, "Yes. And in a way she's lucky that a great deal of the skin on her torso was burned because otherwise she'd have to stare at those scars every day of her life. As it is, Melinda says that once she releases the scar tissue occluding Cam's vaginal opening she'll have to evaluate and see what sort of underlying damage might exist under the scar tissue."

"Whatever she has to do. Whatever Cam wants her to do. I'll sign the compensation forms saying it's necessary. Oh Jesus…" he squeezed his eyes shut, scrubbed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. "Liv…how do you do this job? How do you look at stuff like this all day and not feel absolutely sick?"

"I'm not going to lie and say it doesn't bother me, Clayton. There are days when I want to go home and never come back. But then I see people like Cam. At Sex Crimes we have an entire drawer labeled 'victims', and there are photos of children that have turned up in the hands of the pedophiles we arrest. When we can find a child in the photos we take that whole folder out and label that as found, and it's immensely relieving when we can do that because that's one less child we know is out there hurting and not getting help. Cam's folder was in the back of that drawer, a child victim who we knew wasn't a child anymore but we never, ever stopped looking."

"Did you tell your coworker—John Munch?"

"I told him that I found her. I told her that she was one of the soldiers working on a military base here in New York, and she'd grown into a strong, confident young woman. I couldn't tell him about her PTSD, because John would have blamed himself for that—blamed himself that he didn't try harder to get her to talk, didn't try harder to have her permanently removed from her aunt and uncle."

Hawk tried to imagine that…and couldn't. "I don't know how you do it," he said, his voice harsh as he folded Liv into a fierce hug. "I couldn't do it, God knows I couldn't, but I'm so, so lucky to know someone as strong as you are." _I want to be here for you when you cry, to hold you when you see things like that that scar your soul, but Liv, I don't know if you want me to be there for you like that, Jesus, this is killing me._ And then he felt a little flutter against his belly where he was pressed against Liv's expanding tummy. _Hey, little guy. I'll be here for you and your mom. I _swear_ it. Even if she doesn't want me…I swear I'll be here for both of you, okay?_

It was a promise he was determined he was going to keep.


	19. Chapter 42: ICE

**Chapter 42: ICE**

"Sign this." Lady Jaye pushed a couple sheets of paper across the table to Clayton.

"Should I even ask?" He joked even as he grabbed a pen and signed his name in the blank box at the bottom of the form.

"You already know what it is. My DD457, Investigating Officer's report for Walker's assault on Cam, Doc and Melinda's DD 2911 medical documentation/examination form, and my DD 458, the actual charging documents. Scarlett and Alex are on their way now, and as soon as they get here I'll give those documents to them. Then they'll call Mitchell and have Stalker bring him and Walker here to read the charges against him, he'll sign them and go back to his quarters, and we'll be all set for when the military judge gets here tomorrow afternoon."

"How is Cam doing?"

Allie grinned. "Apparently according to Liv, she makes a lousy patient. The surgery went well, and Olivia called me last night to say they'd decided to keep her overnight just to monitor her and she would be coming back this afternoon. Liv went out there to pick her up from the hospital and bring her back here."

"So how is…"

Allie blew out her breath. "You men are so squeamish. Okay, according to Charlie, who went out there yesterday to see her after she got out of surgery, everything went exactly as planned. Melinda was right when she said the scar tissue simply 'glued' Cam's flesh together—she still has everything that every other normal woman has. She cut away the scar tissue and applied stitches to seal the raw edges apart so it wouldn't close again, and provided Cam keeps the area clean for the next few weeks and doesn't tear the stitches until they're ready to come out, she and Charlie will be hopping in the sack by Christmas."

Hawk closed his eyes. "I did not just hear that."

"Yes you did, but it's okay. Charlie is actually one rank higher than she is, but they're both the same pay grade."

Hawk signed the last blank. "You're the Staff Sergeant here. I'll defer to your judgment. Just…don't let me see it, okay?"

"Have you seen it yet?" Allie challenged. At his horrified look, she laughed at him. "No, they haven't, not yet…I think…but they have been spending a lot of time in each other's company. I walked in on them a week ago in the studio, they both had their flutes and they were sitting there just playing songs to each other. Charlie said it was a cultural exchange but Cam was blushing when he said it."

"She finished that flute?"

"She and Charlie have matching his and hers cedar flutes."

"Oh wow. I hope Shana hasn't gotten too mad at Cam for the sawdust and wood shavings on the floor of her quarters."

"Um. Cam did have to re-clean her quarters several times to make Shana happy, but Shana was more just doing it to enforce discipline, not because she was mad at Cam." Allie sighed. "Which reminds me; I have to tell you the other two female recruits in this training class asked to be sent back to their home bases."

"Changed their minds, hmm?"

"Walker's assault didn't help."

It took a moment for that to sink in, and Hawk looked up at Allie with anger in his eyes. "That son of a bitch."

"Yeah, that's what Dash said. Cam's assault scared off the other two female recruits—they said they didn't want to have to worry for their safety while they were here."

"You did explain to them that this wasn't a random attack, that nothing like this ever happened here before and the only reason it happened this time was because of the court martial?"

"I told them that Cam was deliberately targeted and nothing like that ever happened here before or would happen here again, but they still decided to leave. One of the male recruits did too, so now we're down to two male recruits and Cam out of the seven we started with."

"Just your normal recruit training, then. Damn it, we lose half of them before they even get through the training."

"Clayton, it takes a very particular kind of person with a very particular kind of mentality to want to be stationed at this base. Now granted, there are a lot of perks to balance it off; the pay here is quite generous, you're a tough but fair commander, we have actual quarters instead of barracks, and a lot more leeway as far as regulation uniforms go—Snake Eyes wouldn't be able to scare the recruits half as effectively as he does if we were on another base and he had to wear the standard military fatigues that any other commander would make us wear. He wouldn't be allowed to carry arms everywhere he went, and Scarlett wouldn't be able to carry her throwing stars around like she does. No other commander would tolerate our use of 'unconventional weapons'—Scarlett's crossbow, my javelins—but you.

"But then you look at the cons list. Can't talk to our family about where we're posted and what we actually do because it's classified; we can't have family living on base and we can only see off-base others during our free time, which can be regrettably short if an emergency comes up and we're called back. Our missions are a lot more dangerous and we have no operating support except for whatever you can arrange—look at what happened on the DRC special mission. Most of the recruits that come here aren't willing to deal with the kind of isolation we deal with.

"What they don't understand is that that makes us closer and more fiercely loyal to each other. And it's not something we can tell them in any way that they'll understand, unless they choose to take a chance and sign on for that probationary year; once they've passed recruit training and are official Joes, they figure it out really quickly—but many can't make that probationary commitment and they go back. That's why we don't have that many recruits."

"And no women other than you and Shana and Courtney."

Allie shook her head. "No, with the women it's a little different. We girls like to flock together, Clayton, it's just the way females are wired. We have to socialize and share and gossip and chat with other women, so a posting like this, where there are very few of us, looks unattractive to other women unless they're like Cam, accustomed to being alone and self-reliant and independent. Most of the female recruits look at Shana and can't see the warm, funny, cheerful person under the drill-sergeant exterior; can't look past the formidable skills and ruthlessness that's the part of her personality they see with her as their drill instructor. Women emotionally and mentally aren't equipped to deal with gender isolation, Clayton. It was actually part of the reason I signed on when I found out you didn't have anyone other than Shana—I thought she had to be incredibly lonely. And she admitted later that she was."

"She never told me."

"You're her commanding officer, Clayton, and you'd made it clear when she signed on that the only reason you had a woman here on base was because of her aggressive skills. So she hid it from everyone pretty effectively except Snake Eyes—even back then before they got together he was always better at reading her than anyone else was. Still are, in fact. Which is why even now when we have Courtney here…and Cam on a provisional basis until she finishes her training…Shana still hangs out with Snake Eyes more than anyone else and he's the only one she ever relaxes completely around."

"So do you think Cam will end up staying?"

Allie pursed her lips as she thought about it. "I haven't seen her in training all that much—her medical issues when she came, then the court martial, and then Walker's attack—but I've been seeing plenty of her outside of training, working with her on her PTSD therapy with Shana—I know we aren't licensed therapists, but she just basically needs to talk about what happened to her and get all those bottled-up feelings off her chest, and even though she keeps it inside out of habit, she has to talk when we order her to and she thanks us later. Despite the fact that she's used to gender isolation—not having girls around to talk to—it's still emotionally and mentally stressful. She handles it better than anyone I've ever met, but it does bother her. She's just really, really good at not letting you see what's inside.

"What strikes me about her is that she's too independent, too self-reliant, too isolated. The kind of easy friendship Shana, Court and I share is something that's completely alien to her and it takes her aback sometimes. She's not like the other female recruits; she didn't look at us and see how isolated and self-contained we are, she was looking at us and thinking we're like her tribe, everything's communal, everyone tries to help everyone else out, and no one person is any more or less important than anyone else, irregardless of rank, except when you need to designate someone as 'authority' to referee little squabbles. Our 'we're all in this together' mentality is familiar, so for her, our base is exactly what she's used to and I don't think she'll have a problem with staying."

"That's good, because I like her."

Allie gave him an amused look as she got up from the chair across his desk and gathered her paperwork. "That's good because we like her too and we'd have a few things to say to you if you said we weren't keeping her."

The phone on Hawk's desk squealed to life and Jammer, on communications that morning, spoke over the speaker. "General Hawk, are you there?"

"Right here, Jammer. What's up?"

"I'm patching a call thought from Detective Benson. She says it's absolutely urgent."

Hawk's heart almost stopped. "Put her through."

"Clayton?"

"Liv, I'm right here, oh God, sweetheart, what is it? What's wrong? Is it the baby?" Out the corner of her eye he saw Allie studying him sharply, but he was too worried at the moment to care what she would think.

"No, no, I'm all right. It's Cam. I just signed her out of the hospital and we were here trying to get in the car to come back when a couple of guys in Immigration and Customs Enforcement uniforms stopped us. They told Cam that Homeland Security had reason to believe she was here illegally and they were arresting her for being an illegal immigrant."

Clayton felt his jaw drop; across his desk, Allie was doing the same. "What do they mean, she's here illegally? She's part Iroquois, they have more right to be here than we do!"

"I know, I tried to tell them that she's half Native American but they said she'd have to prove it and they handcuffed her. I told them to be careful, she's just had surgery and she shouldn't be standing or upright for long periods of time or she would stress the stitches and start bleeding but I don't think they listened to me. Clayton, how can she be illegal?"

"Did they say where they were taking her? I'll go down there myself and sort this out."

"No, they didn't. They didn't even read her Miranda rights. I told her not to say anything, that I'd get Alex to figure this out for her, but the ICE guy said she doesn't have the right to remain silent nor does she have the right to an attorney. She's illegal until she proves she isn't, and while she's 'illegal' she doesn't have any rights."

"I'll get Alex." Allie fairly flew out of the room.

Hawk dug out Cam's personnel folder. "I found her social security number, her military registration, and she's checked off her citizenship as US. How can they say she isn't?"

"I don't know. Clayton, what do you want me to do?"

"Come back here. Meet up with me, Allie, and Alex. We'll figure out where she is and go get her. They can't make her disappear, after all. And she has the base's phone number, so she can call us when they get done processing her—wherever she is—and she can tell us where she is and we'll go and get her out."

"And that's where you're wrong," came Alex's voice at the door and Hawk looked up to see her standing there looking grim. "ICE and DHS—Department of Homeland Security—says she's illegal. She doesn't get a free phone call. She can't be released on bond. She doesn't get a lawyer. She doesn't even get a free phone call."

Hawk stood there with his mouth hanging open. "But…that's illegal," he said finally.

"No, it's not. She's illegal. Illegals don't have rights. All of that went away after 9-11 when the government got paranoid about illegals possibly bombing more of our buildings and started rounding up every undocumented person. What we have to do is figure out why they think she's illegal—and figure out how to prove she isn't." Alex sat down at the table, frowning. "So what do we know about her?"

"Her mother was Korean. Showed up at Osan base with a baby and told Cam's father the baby was his. He took her, and Cam's mother disappeared. Cam was raised at Osan with her father and her father's friend and their household…I think Cam said their name was Hammond. Jack Hammond was the name of the Hammond's son and she treated him like a little brother. Then Cam's dad died in a plane accident when she was ten, and she was sent to live with her aunt and uncle in New York City. And we all know what happened from there."

"Cam's father was Native American, Haudenasaunee, or Iroquois. She's part Native American, you can tell that just by looking at her. That should be enough to prove she's legal!"

"Unfortunately, no it's not. Is her birth certificate in that folder?"

For answer Hawk passed the paper over.

Alex looked at it for a minute. "This birth certificate is issued for a little girl named Ok Suk Park. And there's no father listed. So that's why ICE and DHS is after her, she doesn't have a father and officially isn't American. Unless there's a paper in there somewhere that says he legally adopted her?"

"I don't see anything in here."

"So she has to prove he's her father. Clayton, can you get a hold of her father's service record? If he filed for naturalization for her from overseas perhaps the paperwork is still in his file?"

"I'll see what I can do. It won't be quick, though."

"Well, at the moment there's nothing else we can do. We'll have to wait at least twenty-four hours for her to be processed and entered into the ICE detainee system, maybe longer."

"Why? They can't just make her disappear! She's a human being, for Christ's sake!"

"Yes they can, Clayton. Yes they can. ICE/DHS has almost unlimited power to detain and move individuals at will. James Pendergraph, the former Executive Director of the ICE's Office of State and Local Coordination, told a conference full of cops in 2008 that 'If you don't have enough evidence to charge a person criminally, but you think they may be illegal, we can make them disappear.' And he meant 'we' as in Homeland Security. They can arrest her here in New York City, load her on a plane tonight, and land her in California or Texas tomorrow." Alex's features hardened. "The question we have to figure out now is why."

"Why?"

"Why is her citizenship being called into question now? Why has no one commented on her lack of a proper birth certificate and adoption paper now? Who tipped them off?"

Clayton looked at Allie in dawning horror as Alex answered her own question. "Broadview."

_**To be continued in Part 3…Look for it!**_


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